


Through Tempest and Calm

by Stormkpr



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I do believe in happy endings and surviving the worst, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, canon-divergent, dark but with hope, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26066905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormkpr/pseuds/Stormkpr
Summary: Hurt and comfort fic centering on Miller and Jackson, taking place after Sheidheda has taken over Sanctum. Canon-divergent though generally in line with much of early Season 7. Read the T/Ws!
Relationships: Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Comments: 26
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> T/W for non-consensual sex and for a minor being forced to watch non-con.
> 
> Canon-divergent fic taking place in the midst of Season 7
> 
> Seriously, please read the T/W before reading.

**Through Tempest and Calm**

***

So it’s really happening, even though Miller can’t believe it. The anomaly stone is going to work its magic and they are going to return – in an instant apparently – to Shallow Valley, which has beat Monty’s prediction and finally recovered from the damage McCreary inflicted upon it. Miller struggles for a second to take it all in.

“We need to go back to Sanctum and get Madi and the others,” Clarke is saying.

Words that Miller has been longing to hear. He’s had to struggle every minute to keep from worrying about Jackson, and it hasn’t been easy. Clarke is making plans, Miller is listening for his marching orders, and the group is gathering their supplies and nearly ready to go.

“Hey,” Murphy says quietly, touching Miller’s arm. He, Emori, and Gaia have used an anomaly stone – or some other magic, Miller isn’t sure - to get to Bardo and get away from Sheidheda. “There’s something you need to know.”

Miller immediately breaks out into a panicked sweat. Why is Murphy looking sad and serious - and where has his sarcasm gone? What is he about to say? What else could be causing this transformation in the king of snark?

“Is he okay?” Miller breathes. He has to get the question out, even as he feels his guts turn into mush. “Is he dead?”

“No, no, he’s not dead!” Murphy replies, matching Miller’s urgency. “But Sheidheda hurt him.”

“Hurt him? Why the hell would you hurt a healer? What happened?” After these panicked questions, Miller is dimly aware that Murphy is exchanging a look with Emori. He hears Murphy lower his voice and say something quietly, responding to the question, but he’s not able to register the words that Murphy has just spoken. He asks Murphy to repeat them, and he does.

***

_A few days earlier…._

It is finished. Indra and everyone else has kneeled to Sheidheda. Those who chose not to have either been slaughtered or soon will be once Sheidheda’s forces track them down.

Jackson works in med bay, using every method and every tip he’s ever learned to keep his mind steady and tend to the injured. _Focus on the work. One step at a time, one task at a time. Take care of who needs it, prioritize, keep going. Don’t think about the fact that you don’t know where Nate is, that you’re living under yet another dictator, that truly nothing ever seems to get better. Or that you still miss Abby or that Sheidheda is terrifying._

Jackson’s trainwreck thought patterns cease once the door to the medical center opens. More patients? Instead it’s Knight, striding up to Jackson. Another member of Wonkru, Dima, stands behind Knight.

“The commander wants you inside his room now,” Knight states, his expression blank.

Jackson’s mouth opens. “Knight. We have a medical center full of patients. Half of Sanctum’s med staff was slaughtered, and I—“

“ **Now** , Jackson. Right now. Or there will be more blood spilled today.” Knight’s expression has changed, and Jackson can see something akin to regret and guilt behind his eyes.

Jackson puts down the instrument he was holding, removes his gloves, and follows Knight and Dima. As they walk towards the palace, Jackson knows he needs more information. “Did he say what for?” Jackson asks. “Is he injured again? Why would he want to see me in his room?”

“Just tell him,” Dima sighs at Knight, sounding exasperated. “He has a right to know.”

Jackson strains to hear Knight’s reply over the general pandemonium in Sanctum, the sights and sounds of a shocked, terrified people milling around. A few members of Wonkru are rounding up Sanctumites, perhaps placing them into forced labor groups. “The commander asked for a man who….has experience having sex with other men,” Knight states flatly.

“What?” Jackson rasps. He is suddenly out of breath.

“The others who fit the bill died in the gorge,” Knight continues rapidly. “And we had to answer the question! He slit Kor’s throat for not answering fast enough.”

“We’re sorry,” Dima adds. “Don’t hate us for it. We didn’t want to end up like Kor and there was no one else we knew of.”

They are approaching the palace. Jackson’s legs feel weak but he climbs the stairs right on Knight and Dima’s heels. He remembers how beautiful he thought this structure the first time he saw it. He remembers how beautiful _Sanctum_ looked the first time too, seeing the awe in Miller’s eyes as they stood at the water’s edge. _Miller_. Jackson’s heart would ache if it wasn’t filled with pure terror, if his legs didn’t feel like jelly.

“Do everything he says,” Knight says to Jackson in a low voice, as they approach the room that - from the looks of the entranceway – used to be Russell Prime’s and now is Sheidheda’s. “He’ll stab you – or much worse – if you don’t.” He gives Jackson a gentle push, and Jackson steps through the doorway.

***

Sheidheda stands before him, wearing the face and body of the man who killed Abby. Jackson takes just a second to absorb it. The cropped, spikey hair, the shorn beard. The black patch over his right eye - one of Sanctum’s doctors must have treated him. The way he stands there like a menacing beast, bloodthirsty and ready to kill. Jackson has stood just feet apart from Blodreina after she’s sent people into the fighting pits, he has seen death and dictators before. He watched Abby tortured with shock lashing. But this is terrifying.

And it gets worse. Hearing a soft sound like a muted scream, Jackson looks to his left. There sits Madi, bound and gagged and strapped to a chair. She’s bleeding from at least one visible wound, and Jackson breaks a little at seeing her. His heart has been sinking all day, as soon as Sheidheda took over, as soon as the medical center began to fill. Now he wonders if it can drop any lower.

“I’m really eager to stab her again,” Sheidheda says by way of greeting. “I can’t kill her but I can inflict untold amounts of pain on her.” He takes a step closer to Jackson. “You will do exactly as I say, or your beloved Madi pays the price.”

Jackson’s mouth is dry and he can barely speak. He manages to croak, “Please. Let her go. She shouldn’t have to see-“

Sheidheda displays the knife he was holding and takes a step closer to Jackson. “Take off all your clothes and then kneel before me,” he orders Jackson, as if the doctor hadn’t even spoken.

Jackson quickly obeys the order. He knows at this point he has one job and one job only. _Obey Sheidheda, do it without question, do it instinctively so that you and Madi can stay alive. No matter how disgusting and terrifying it is._ Jackson hates and fears everything about this scenario, and the crowning touch to Sheidheda’s cruelty is the fact that Madi will be forced to witness it. Sheidheda has even, with horrifying detail, placed her chair so that it is angled towards the bed. Assuming that’s where the commander wants this assault to take place, Madi will see everything unless she keeps her eyes shut.

Jackson tries to brace himself for what he knows will be a new and appalling experience. His ex-boyfriend on the Ark could be callous at times, insensitive in some ways. But he was never remotely brutal. The idea of having to do this with someone who appears to be without a heart, without a soul, is simply crushing.

_Autopilot. Just go on autopilot. Shut off your brain and your heart, and just go through the motions. Stay alive so that you’re here whenever Nate gets back._

_**If** he gets back._

Jackson does as Sheidheda tells him.

“What is wrong? I thought you’ve done this before,” Sheidheda asks after a short while. His voice actually sounds…playful? Amused? Jackson’s skin crawls at Sheidheda’s new tone.

“I’m sorry, Heda. I’m nervous.”

“Your mouth is too dry. Here. Something to drink.”

The commander steps away, reaching towards a chalice atop a table. Jackson tries to take a few breaths, fearing what might be inside that chalice. Blood? Poison? He calms when he sees and smells it. It’s water. Plain and simple water. Jackson takes a few sips.

“There,” Sheidheda says. Again his voice is eerily soft and he reaches down to stroke Jackson’s hair. “Now let’s try again, shall we? You **have** done this before? Knight and the other weren’t lying to me, were they?”

“I’ve done it before, Heda.”

“Good. Show me what you can do.”

As Jackson resumes his work, Sheidheda talks. He tells of warriors and armies he’s defeated. He soon segues into talking about sexual conquests, though none of what he describes sounds fully – or even remotely - consensual. He brags of a group of young men who he used to have follow him throughout the land as he fought his battles. “I don’t like children. But young men, younger than you – that’s what I like best. They begged for me,” he says. “Begged for what you’re getting right now.” He describes in detail the things he used to have them do. And then he stops.

“Let’s take this to the bed. Kneel on it,” he orders.

Jackson obeys, wondering if his insides are about to be torn apart. He thinks that Sanctum has one surgeon left who may be able to patch him back up. He imagines he’s quivering.

“Don’t worry,” Sheidheda says, reaching for a jar of oil. “I know how to do this too. I have no interest in harming you, at least not as long as you’re my only option here. You’ve done this before too?” he asks as he begins to use the oil.

“Yes.”

“Good. Relax.” Sheidheda sighs. “Open up for me.”

***

Jackson is granted a small mercy. Madi is removed from the room once Sheidheda is finished. Jackson glances at her as she’s carried away – she’s still strapped to the chair, and he notes that her eyes are squeezed shut. Perhaps she’s telling him that she granted him the same kindness during the rape. He feels nauseated at the thought that she had to listen to the entire thing.

Jackson, however, is not permitted to leave the room. Sheidheda tells him that guards are posted outside the room, the door will be locked at all times, and that Madi will be tortured should Jackson attempt to leave.

He wants to ask if he can return to the medical center, but Jackson knows what the answer will be and knows that making the request would be futile. _Does Sheidheda even care how many of “his” people die? Would he be content if only ten people are left alive on Sanctum to kneel before him?_

“You did well,” Sheidheda says as he pulls his jacket on. His tone is casual, conversational as if he hasn’t just inflicted something terrible on a human being. _Well, it makes sense,_ Jackson thinks. _Rape can’t be that big of a deal to someone who seems to murder for the fun of it_. “I’ll have some food brought to you.” He turns to look at Jackson and he grins. “Be ready for more later.”

When Jackson is quiet, Sheidheda menacingly takes a few steps closer to him. “How do you respond to your commander?”

“Yes, Heda,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry, Heda.”

“That’s better.” With that, Sheidheda slaps Jackson’s rear and leaves the room.

Alone at last, Jackson pulls his clothing on and sinks to the floor. He sits motionless. He takes a moment to taunt himself, to think that a Clarke Griffin or a Bellamy Blake would devise a way out of there. But Jackson knows he is stuck. Even if he could get by the guards, where would he go? But no, he’d not even risk that. He has no doubt that Sheidheda will do as he said and torture Madi for the slightest transgression. The child has suffered enough and he can’t put her at risk.

 _So it’s endurance then,_ Jackson tells himself. _Mental and physical endurance._

The physical aspect is not insignificant, and the word “uncomfortable” does not even begin to describe the physicality of what Jackson endured. But, in line with what he knows about the topic of sexual assault, the mental aspect right now is even worse.

Jackson is dimly aware that time is passing, and that he’s still sitting motionless on the floor of Sheidheda’s room. He’s trembling even though the room isn’t cold. At some point, a woman – a Sanctumite – enters the room and begins to clean it. Keeping her head down, she cleans the adjoining bathroom, dusts the main room, changes the bed sheets, and sweeps the floor. Jackson watches her though his gaze is unfocused. He normally likes to take in the details of his surroundings, and part of his brain tells him to admire the beauty of this room (the richly-hued rug over the stone floor, the intricate carvings on the dresser, the fine workmanship of every item of furniture). But his mind just drifts, fades in and out.

 _Focus_ , he commands himself at some point after the woman leaves. _You can live through this. Remember? The dark year. Your body felt the way it feels now. Nauseated. Heartsick. Filled with despair. But you continued on, you had no choice. That’s what you’ll do here. Continue on until someone finds a way out of here. Maybe Indra has a plan and is working with Knight on it now. Maybe Clarke will get back from the mission she took Nate on._

 _Nate_. Jackson thinks of the man he loves and his brain goes down another spiral, sick with worry over what might have happened to Miller.

_At least he’s not here. That has to be better. As long as he’s alive, wherever he is now has to be better than this._

At some point later, again Jackson has no idea how long, the door opens and two Wonkru members enter. One is carrying a plate of food.

“Sheidheda orders you to eat,” he says. He sets the tray on the table. “He also tells you he’ll be back here in an hour and to be ready for him.”

Jackson blankly looks at the two people. Fellow members of Wonkru. They survived the dark year along with him, and he has treated both of them in the past, helping them through sickness and various injuries. Jackson knows he should be probing them for information, trying to find a way out of this predicament. But Jackson cannot move from the floor or force his voice to function.

And then, less than an hour later as promised, Sheidheda returns and Jackson jumps to his feet. “You didn’t eat,” he says, standing near the table, a strange smile on his face. He strides up to Jackson. “Clothing off right now and then kneel - or I bring the girl back here and dream up new ways to torture her.”

Jackson’s mind gets into gear and he immediately does as told.

***

The next morning, Indra brings Jackson a meal. It takes him a second to realize that it’s Indra and his mouth drops open. She is no longer dressed in her warrior clothing – and Jackson has certainly never seen her wearing anything but. Today Indra is wearing an ill-fitting peach dress, clearly a Sanctumite woman’s outfit. The fact that she is carrying a tray of food suggests that Sheidheda has her working in the kitchens.

_She is as trapped and degraded as I am._

Knight and another man who Jackson doesn’t recognize stand over Indra as she brings the tray in. Jackson feels that his brain is more functional today and he wonders if Indra might be carrying a message to him. Now that he can focus, he watches her intently but she gives no signals. She places the tray on the table, and turns and leaves, without even making eye contact.

When he is alone again, Jackson inspects the food and the tray. Nothing. There is nothing here but a cup of coffee, a bowl of oatmeal and a piece of what he assumes is fruit, though like much of the food on Sanctum he’s never seen it before. He even pokes at the oatmeal with a finger but it really and truly is just oatmeal.

He decides to do what he couldn’t do yesterday – to eat. He doesn’t want to risk Sheidheda’s rage or risk anything else happening to Madi. Also, Jackson knows that his brain needs fuel; it needs this food. He didn’t sleep last night. Sheidheda directed him to sleep on the rug. Jackson certainly has slept in far worse physical conditions, but his agonized brain didn’t allow him much slumber. He lay on the rug, tense and terrified that his captor would wake up and want more.

Jackson did receive one small blessing earlier this morning: Sheidheda nearly ignored him. He simply barked at him to “eat and bathe” before he left. Thrilled at the prospect of washing Sheidheda off of him, Jackson entered the adjoining bathroom as soon as Sheidheda was gone.

And now the breakfast sits before him. Jackson forces himself to open his mouth and – just as he did during the dark year – fight back the nausea, fight back the dread, and simply eat.

***

Jackson loses track of time but in reality, three full days pass, each one like the previous. Sheidheda returns and departs several times, usually demanding sex but not always. He almost ignores Jackson other than barking his standard orders at him regarding eating, bathing, and performing whatever sexual acts Sheidheda wants.

Jackson’s mind is mostly numb. Different Sanctumite women periodically enter the room to clean it or bring food. He doesn’t speak to or even look at them, and they do the same with him, though he thinks one of them was Blythe Anne the woman who worked at the tavern. He continues to bide his time, knowing he still has no way to escape and nowhere to go.

On day three, Sheidheda leisurely begins another conversation. Jackson braces himself for more tales of sexual and territorial conquest, but this one takes a slightly different turn. “Found another man,” he says casually. “A Sanctumite. He’s kind of homely but he’s younger than you.”

_So Sheidheda has someone else to rape. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t been here as much the past 24 hours. Is he going to kill me? Or can I dare hope that he’ll let me go?_

“I’ll keep you both around for now,” he continues, answering at least one of Jackson’s questions. “He’s not as good as you are with the oral stuff,” Sheidheda adds with a chuckle. “I’m keeping him elsewhere but maybe someday I’ll bring him in with us. I used to do that a lot. Take two or three men, one after the other.”

Jackson braces himself for another tale of outrageous behavior, of the men who used to accompany – or be forced to accompany – Sheidheda.

Later, when Jackson is alone again, he decides he needs to get more information and that it is worth the risk. Now that Sheidheda has a new victim, Jackson has to keep thinking about what this might mean for his own future.

The next time the door to the room opens, Jackson glances at the guards. One of them is Knight. After the woman bringing in his food leaves, Jackson knocks on the door. He knows they lock it from the other side each time, so there’s no sense in doing anything other than knocking. “Knight,” he calls out. “Knight!” he repeats.

“What is it?” Knight calls from the other side of the door.

“D-do you know where Miller is? Have you heard anything?”

“He left with Wanheda days ago to find Blodreina’s brother. You know that,” Knight says straightforwardly. “Don’t ask more questions and be glad you’re alive. The morgue is so full right now that they can’t keep up with it.”

With that, Knight is clearly finished with the conversation.

Jackson walks over to the room’s windows. The room is too high up for him to jump without guaranteeing a sprained or broken ankle at best, and even still there are guards standing there, below each window. During his first several days here, Jackson did little else when he was alone other than sit on the floor shivering. He now finds himself staring out the window for hours.

From what he can observe, no one outside is talking much. People are rapidly walking around – some Sanctumites, some Wonkru, and some Eligius. There don’t seem to be many, or really any, of the Children of Gabriel. There are definitely fewer people out and about than Jackson remembers ever seeing, and those who aren’t Sheidheda’s guards move quickly and furtively with their heads down.

Jackson keeps hoping that he will someday see Clarke and Bellamy and Blodreina marching down the street with a conquering army. With Nate right at the front of the line. Victorious.

But he knows that is nothing more than a dream, and instead his life is a nightmare that doesn’t look poised to end.

 _No,_ he tells himself. _It can end. You survived six years under the earth inside a bunker with tons of rubble atop it and no way out. You survived it then. You took it one day at a time, you breathed in and out._

_But you had Nate by your side. And Abby. And Gaia and Niylah, Kane and Indra. Someone was always there to talk someone else off the ledge._

***

And then it happens. Jackson looks out the window at Sanctum’s streets and sees evidence of a fight. Clarke and the others are back! They are wearing suits and helmets that seem to grant them the power of invisibility when they want it. The fight is over quickly and Jackson hears someone yell “Sheidheda is dead!”

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**The “comfort” part of the hurt and comfort is coming soon.**


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Miller and the others return to Sanctum and move fast now that they’ve mastered how the anomaly stones work along with the Bardoan suits that grant them invisibility. Clarke knows that Sheidheda has to be the first target, and he is gunned down quickly and efficiently. The next phase is clean up: determining who is still loyal to Sheidheda, and who poses a threat. And then after that, they will need to sort through who wants to return to earth and who wants to remain in Sanctum.

For Miller, none of that matters. As soon as the battle is over, he asks for and is granted approval to find Jackson.

***

Murphy has told him that Jackson was being confined to the palace, so Miller grabs his gun and charges into the ornate building. Upon entering, he sees Blythe Anne huddled in a room with other non-combatants. Miller sat inside her tavern several times and chatted with her and her husband. “Blythe Anne!” he calls out. “Do you know where Jackson is? You remember him - the doctor who used to sit with me at the tavern?”

“Yes,” she says, looking remarkably composed for a woman who has lost her daughter, experienced the implosion of her belief system, and watched another dictator rise and fall all within the span of a couple weeks. “He’s inside the commander’s room. Go to the top floor and you can’t miss the room. It’s the biggest.”

He thanks her and dashes up the stairs. As Blythe Anne promised, the master suite is fairly easy to spot; the elaborate foyer alone is a give-away. He reaches the door but it’s locked. “Jacks!” he calls out. “Are you in there?”

“I’m here! I heard all the commotion but I’m locked in.”

“Okay. I’m going to shoot the lock out. Stand back.”

Seconds later, the door is opened and Miller is pulling Jackson into his arms. This isn’t the first time they’ve been separated. Miller had a scouting mission shortly after the bunker was opened, and of course Miller was on the front lines of the battle for the final march to the Valley. But Miller has learned that these separations apparently don’t get any easier. Having Jackson back in his arms means that for the first time since he left, he feels whole again.

Words tumble forth from both men’s mouths. Miller confirms that yes, Sheidheda is dead and Sanctum has been secured. Jackson asks what happened to him since he left with Clarke, and Miller says that it’s a long story – but he gives the highlights. Part of Miller wants to avoid thinking about what Murphy told him back on Bardo, but he knows that is not remotely an option. Although relieved that Jackson is alive and in one piece, Miller knows he needs to bring it up.

“W-what about you? Has Sheidheda….kept you trapped inside here the whole time? Are you okay?”

Jackson looks down and takes a step back, and Miller’s heart sinks. Jackson opens his mouth and closes it again.

“Hey, hey,” Miller says softly. “You can tell me. If you want. Or – uh, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay too.”

Jackson responds by pulling Miller back into a hug. “I can’t talk about it just yet.” He lets out a breath. “I’m just so glad that you’re alive and you’re here.”

“Me too. And, uh, of course – whenever you’re ready to talk about what happened, I’m here.” His voice catches, but he repeats, “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

They remain in the embrace for a long time. Miller knows that Jackson is probably thinking exactly what he is. They are both needed elsewhere. Despite the swiftness of the battle, there have to be people who need medical attention. And Miller has always played such a key role for Clarke, Bellamy, and Octavia that they must surely want or need him to do something right now. And yet Miller feels rooted to the spot, just holding Jackson in his arms. He is even more surprised by the fact that Jackson isn’t breaking away to go to the medical center. Miller doesn’t want to step out of the hug, so he remains in it, just feeling the warmth and concreteness of Jackson’s body against his.

After what is, in actuality, more than five minutes though it feels like far less, Jackson breaks off the hug. “Do you know where Madi is?” he asks.

“I don’t. As soon as Sheidheda was killed and the battle was over, I asked to go see you. But – I’m sure Clarke is with her now. W-why? Was she okay last you saw her?’

Jackson opens his mouth to reply and then closes it.

Miller’s thoughts swirl around inside of his head chaotically as his heart drops to the ground. He doesn’t want to admit that all the evidence indicates that what Murphy told him was true. Did Sheidheda assault Madi in the same way too??

Jackson finally tries again and is able to answer. “Last time I saw her she had knife wounds. And he-“ Jackson stops. Miller puts a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, and the doctor opens his mouth to continue, “He forced her to watch. Used her so that I’d go along with what he wanted.”

Miller pulls Jackson into another hug and again they stay there for many long moments.

“I guess,” Jackson begins at last, his voice hesitant, “we should get going. People need us.”

Miller can’t believe the next words that tumble out of his mouth. “Or we could stay here. Just sit together here for a bit.” He can’t quite articulate the rest of what he wants to say. That Jackson is broken and doesn’t need to rush off to take care of everyone else – that for once in his life he can just hold back from helping others. And that Miller wants to be by his side, even though there are myriad tasks right now for both of them to do - a soldier’s place after a big battle is at his commanders’ sides. Although Miller doesn’t view Clarke or Bellamy as remotely vengeful or unreasonable, there could truly be hell to pay for his taking this long break right now.

But he doesn’t care.

The two men end up sitting on the floor together, quietly holding hands. They don’t talk much. From what Jackson says, Miller can gather that he doesn’t want to go near the bed or by the table and chairs where Sheidheda would sit and eat his meals.

Miller tries to think of what Jackson went through and what his mind is doing right now. Although Miller is in turmoil, he’s trying to approach this logically right now. Miller is assuming that what Murphy said on Bardo is true and that Sheidheda sexually assaulted Jackson. All the signs certainly bear that out, from the location of where Sheidheda held Jackson, to Jackson’s behavior now, to his remark about Madi being “forced to watch”. Miller takes a deep breath, knowing he has to get his own rage, sadness, and feelings of helplessness under control.

“It’s so good that you are here,” Jackson says. “I didn’t know what happened to you. I was so worried.”

“I’m here now,” Miller says, squeezing his hand more tightly. “And you know I’ll listen if you want to talk.”

“I know.”

More time passes. Miller continues to fight his emotions. He sees red when he thinks of Sheidheda. _If Clarke hadn’t shot him, I’d go kill him myself._ But he knows that in order to be of any help to Jackson, he can’t be raging around. He learned long ago that you don’t get to really rail against the circumstances of your life. His father died in the deathwave simply because he didn’t make the cut for the bunker. Life never was meant to be fair or easy.

Miller forces himself to just breathe. Eventually, soft footsteps can be heard approaching, and Miller reaches for his gun just in case. It’s Emori, and she’s asking if Jackson could help out in the medical center.

“Yeah,” Jackson says, slowly getting to his feet. “I will help.”

***

Miller makes a decision to not leave Jackson’s side for as long as possible, and his decision is apparently respected because no one comes searching for him or demanding his services. So Miller remains in the medical center, standing off to the side and watching Jackson work. Gaia comes by at one point, and Miller asks about Madi. Gaia says that Clarke has already treated Madi’s wounds and the girl is as well as can be expected.

Miller’s certainly no doctor but just watching Jackson work from the sidelines, he knows that Jackson clearly isn’t at his best. Miller has observed Jackson working with children before; he’s always so gentle and caring with them. Today he’s perfunctory and detached with everyone, barely making eye contact in most cases. At least Niylah and the surviving members of Sanctum’s medical staff are working hard too.

Gaia returns at some point later. “Some food for you and Jackson,” she says, setting a tray down on the one bare spot on the counter.

Miller looks at Gaia. She was one of his closest friends in the bunker. He wants to ask ‘What do I do? What do I say?’ But despite growing up in a society where there is no stigma surrounding sexual assault, he doesn’t feel he can bring the topic up. What if Jackson doesn’t want anyone to know about it or discuss it? Well, obviously people know what happened. Murphy told Miller, Blythe Anne knew where he could find Jackson, Emori went to both of them in Sheidheda’s quarters, and – horrifically – Madi was forced to watch. But is it okay for Miller to ask Gaia about it?

Just as Miller’s about to open his mouth, Gaia takes a step closer to him and places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll get through this,” she says softly. “And I’m here to talk if you need it.”

Miller nods. He whispers back, “I just don’t know what to say to him or do.”

“Give it time. Offer to listen but don’t push him if he’s not ready. Let him know you care.” Gaia pauses. “Which from what I’ve seen during all our years together, you’re really good at. So trust your instincts.”

“Thank you.” Miller suddenly realizes that he should ask about Indra. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t ask – how is your mom?”

“She’s fine. I just saw her.” Gaia smiles. “You know how she is, never letting on that she’s bothered.” She tilts her head. “She’s alive and in one piece, so I’ll take that.”

At some point later, Madi enters the medical center. The commotion seems to be winding down, and even those with minor injuries are being treated. Madi goes up to Jackson and gives him a hug. They simply hug for a few moments, not exchanging any words, and then Madi departs.

Miller silently observes. It’s difficult. Jackson looks pained and even guilty, and Miller can’t fathom why he would feel guilt. But maybe this is just the kind of thing where logic doesn’t apply.

After Madi leaves, Jackson sniffles a bit as if he’s choking back a tear and Miller kind of breaks inside. He steps up to him. “I’m okay,” Jackson says quietly. “Almost done here.”

“Good. Uh, Gaia brought food,” Miller says. “I don’t know the last time you ate….”

Jackson nods. “Let me take another walk-through and then I’ll eat.”

Miller remains by his side, again marveling at the fact that no one has come to fetch him. He shakes his head. _I shouldn’t underestimate Clarke and Bellamy – or Octavia now either; she seems so different. Maybe someone told them what happened and they’re just letting me be._

Jackson doesn’t talk much during the meal, but he does tell Miler he’s glad that he’s there. They eat in mostly companionable silence. As they are finishing up, Jordan enters med bay.

“Hey, guys,” Jordan begins. “The group is going back to earth. Gabriel’s going to stay here to try to bring democracy to Sanctum, but the rest of us are going home. Er, well to the home I’ve never seen before.” He goes on to explain that it will be Spartan conditions on Shallow Valley for a while – living in tents, procuring food by farming, foraging, and hunting. But the group returning to earth will be given supplies from Sanctum to make the transition easier.

“I packed up your room in the farmhouse,” Jordan adds. “Not that there was much in it. We, uh, assumed you’re coming with us.”

Miller and Jackson exchange a look. “Yeah, of course,” Miller says. “When do we leave?”

“Soon.”

***

Life moves quickly after that. A few Sanctumites are around to bid farewell to Clarke’s people, and Jackson finds himself getting a hug from Blythe Anne as a goodbye. And then Jackson can only marvel at what happens next – stepping through the anomaly and somehow returning to earth, the planet he and the others ran from 125 years ago. And then getting to set foot on Shallow Valley at last which has, somehow, regenerated and is livable once more. Another flurry of activity follows with folks scrambling about, and Clarke asks him if he’s okay with setting up the medical tent along with Niylah. He agrees to it, and then touches a hand to Miller’s arm. “I’m okay for now. I know you got a hundred other things to work on. Thanks…for staying with me earlier.”

Miller nods, brushes Jackson’s lips with his own, and heads off to follow his orders.

Jackson finds that right now he’s glad to be busy even though his mind feels numb and not as focused as he would like. Niylah asks him if he wants to talk, and he just shakes his head no. Feeling bad, he then adds, “But thank you.”

Much later, Clarke calls the group together for a picnic. Jackson follows Niylah out of the medical tent when it’s time. Niylah makes a comment wondering how many days have passed since their picnic outside of the farmhouse on Sanctum, and Jackson suspects that his mind is a bit too numb now because it takes him a few moments to even recall what Niylah is referring to.

At today’s picnic, Jackson sits next to Miller and eats mechanically.

***

“No one said ‘we’re back, bitches’ when we stepped through the anomaly,” Murphy is joking.

“That’s probably for the better,” Emori replies.

Miller’s eyes dart around during the picnic. _Are people giving Jackson strange looks? Are they avoiding him?_ Despite growing up in a culture that didn’t stigmatize victims of sexual assault, Miller wonders if the others just feel awkward knowing what happened. _Or is it my imagination? Maybe everyone is just off a bit – we’ve been through a lot and it is weird to think that we’re somehow back on earth. I can’t even process it right now. So glad to be off that hellhole Sanctum though._

Miller tunes out most of the conversation, as Jackson is apparently doing. He knows he should tilt his head up to the sky and appreciate the beauty of the place they’re living in, and the fact that the Wonkru and Eligius people aren’t tearing each other’s throats out right now. But his heart is elsewhere. He and Jackson mostly continue to exchange silent glances as they eat.

“Hey,” Bellamy says to Miller, once the picnic has wound down and people are heading towards their tents for the evening. “Can you put a guard schedule together? I’ve been meaning to get to it all day. But you know the Wonkru people way better than I do.”

“Sure. Give me a couple hours and I’ll have it done.”

Bellamy nods and looks intently at Miller. His voice is gentle. “Thanks. Give yourself some time off too, okay? I know you’ve got other things on your mind.”

Miller meets his gaze. “Thanks, Bellamy. I’ll try to.” He wants to say more about how much this gesture means to him, but he leaves it at that.

***

Jackson can’t sleep. Their tent is comfortable, their sleeping bags warm and soft. They’ve been lucky enough to get a tent just for the two of them. But sleep isn’t coming no matter how many times he shifts position, no matter how many deep breaths he takes. Any time he begins to drift off, the anxiety starts bubbling up and his body tenses. He’ll feel Sheidheda’s hands around his neck, lightly but appallingly squeezing. Or just as he’s dropping into a light sleep, he’ll feel Sheidheda grabbing at him like he did one time in Sanctum when Jackson let himself sleep and woke up to find his captor pawing at him, assaulting him again in the living nightmare where he couldn’t refuse and couldn’t stop anything.

He remains quiet, not wanting to wake Miller. The man has been working all day and looked exhausted during the picnic. Thinking that a walk might help, Jackson grabs a flashlight and unzips the tent flap. But the walk doesn’t seem to make a difference. Every shadow and every twig that’s snapped makes him think that Sheidheda is about to jump out. The sounds of a few Eligius people laughing in the distance remind him of Sheidheda’s sick laughter. Jackson visits the portable toilets and washing stations that were brought with from Sanctum and then returns to his and Miller’s tent.

“There you are,” Miller says, his voice groggy. “I was just about to go look for you.”

“Nate. You should be sleeping. Did I wake you?” Jackson asks.

“Nah,” Miller answers, sounding like his typically mellow self. “I’m fine. Hey. Do you think we can cuddle? Like we used to in our bunk?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Jackson drops to the ground as Miller unzips his sleeping bag, letting Jackson in. They start to get into their usual spooning position, which they perfected during the six years they spent sharing a too-small bed in the bunker. Jackson notes that Miller has slowed down each small movement as they get into position, from just bringing his whole body closer to Jackson to putting his arm around him. Jackson realizes, though, that he welcomes his touch. He’s not shrinking from it and it doesn’t feel strange at all. Jackson’s body seems to instinctively understand that this is Nate Miller and there’s nothing to fear.

“So. What’s going on inside?” Miller asks gently.

Something about their setting right now makes Jackson feel a bit better, or at least a bit more open. The darkness of the night, the private tent, Miller’s warm body against his. Even the fact that he is physically exhausted – despite the anxiety churning through his mind – seems to help break a defense or two down.

“Mostly feeling numb. Numbness and a bit of anxiety,” Jackson answers.

“Does – does it help with the anxiety at all to think that he’s dead? The monster who assaulted you. He’s not going to touch you ever again.”

“Maybe it should. But it’s like my body doesn’t know that.”

“Understandable.” Miller pauses and then asks gently, “What about the numbness?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it will just take time.” Jackson knows his voice sounds as hollow as he feels. “I was so numb that I don’t think I did a good job treating the patients back in Sanctum.”

“I feel like you did the best you could,” Miller offers. With a clearly-forced laugh he adds, “Not that my medical opinion is worth much.”

“It was nice that you were there. It was nice to look up a few times and just see you there.” Jackson realizes how true his words are. Miller gives him a sense of security, and it’s a feeling he craves.

“You’ll let me know how I can….you know, support you, right?” Miller asks, his voice sounding eager.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re doing great, Nate.”

“Good.”

The two men continue talking. Jackson doesn’t want to discuss his mental state any more, so instead they go over how their days went, once again marveling at the unbelievable turns their lives have taken. It is hard to accept the fact that they are back on earth over 125 years after they were born on the Ark above it, after it was rendered uninhabitable - but is somehow now livable again. It’s also still hard to accept that they were asleep for over a century, that their journey to Sanctum took that long while their return to earth took just an instant.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m just bracing for what will happen next,” Miller says.

“Yeah, me too.” Jackson takes a breath. “That’s how it was during those days inside his room. Just a lot of bracing myself and preparing for the worst.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to live through that and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

Jackson can hear the anguish in Miller’s voice. “Hey!” Jackson says intensely. “None of this was your fault. And you **did** stop it. You and Clarke and the others came back and…took care of it. So please don’t apologize ever.” Jackson pauses. “You know what? I feel a little better right now. You’re holding me and you’re nice and warm. You…you kind of make me feel like someday I’ll be okay even though I’m not okay now.”

***

Miller knows he went back to sleep at some point that night and then, hours later, the first suggestions of sunlight and dawn began to peek through the tent. He hears a slight commotion, and someone is saying that Jackson’s services are needed. Miller feels him give a peck on his cheek before departing.

A couple hours after that, Miller is up and about, ready to work. Unsurprisingly, a flurry of activity is already underway. From what Miller can gather, Indra, Octavia and Diyoza are working on integrating Wonkru and Eligius – or at least ensuring they don’t kill each other. Bellamy and Clarke are pointing out that although the group does need people to patrol and to “serve and protect” like the guard, it does not need 500 warriors either. So they are determining whom to redeploy to their most urgent tasks: home construction, farming, foraging, fishing, and hunting.

And somehow within all this, wash stations are up and breakfast is being distributed. Miller can only marvel at Clarke and Bellamy’s organizational skills. He offers to take breakfast to the medical staff, but the person overseeing meals – a Wonkru member who Miller trusts – insists that someone already did that 20 minutes ago.

Miller checks the schedule he made yesterday. He’s assigned to patrol for the rest of the day, ensuring that any fights that break out are stopped and anyone who needs emergency help can get it. Staying alert and on guard, he canvasses the camp. It looks good, all things considered. The weather is pleasant today, slightly cool but with clear skies and a hint of sun.

At several points during the morning, Miller’s patrol takes him passed the medical tent. He glances in, sometimes exchanging a look with Jackson or Niylah if their heads are not buried in something. They look busy; in addition to whatever emergency stole Jackson away earlier, Miller sees that some folks have been injured working on construction projects, while other injuries were sustained during a few inevitable altercations. Miller knows that at some point last night, he himself nodded off but he fears Jackson might not have done so. _Sanctum gave us a lot of medical supplies. Maybe tonight he can take something to help him sleep?_

During the early afternoon, Miller sees that Bellamy has assembled a small group who are sitting in a circle. Madi is there along with the handful of Wonkru children left. It looks like Bellamy is trying to conduct school for the day. _He never does sleep, does he?_

But Miller’s thoughts center on Madi. _How is she?? Does Bellamy know what she was forced to witness? Do I bring it up? And with who – like is it okay to bring it up with Bellamy, or only with Madi or Clarke? Madi seemed okay yesterday in the med center on Sanctum when she hugged Jacks. Damn, I am so out of my element with this!_

As Miller is standing there with his thoughts swirling around, it looks like Bellamy has assigned something for the students to read to themselves for now. While the kids are doing so, Bellamy uses this time to head over to Miller.

They chat a bit about how their days are going and then Bellamy says, “Just wanted to see how you’re doing.” He places a hand on Miller’s back.

“Good. Fine. Hey,” Miller begins, taking on a softer tone, “how’s Madi? I saw her in the medical center in Sanctum before we left, but I’ve been wondering.”

“She’s one resilient kid,” Bellamy says with a slight smile. “She’s as good as can be expected.”

“Good.” Miller again isn’t sure if he should say more. Bellamy’s face looks open and honest, but also exhausted. Miller makes the decision to take what Bellamy said at face value and be satisfied with his determination that Madi seems well enough for now.

***

It’s already time for dinner. The canteen is coming along nicely – there are a few actual tables and chairs along with substitutes like boxes and crates all under a canopy. The scent of a stew simmering wafts throughout camp. Miller spots Jackson, and the two men rush up to each other and hug.

“They let you out of med bay?” Miller asks with a smile.

“They did. Clarke and Niylah ordered me to eat and then take something to knock myself out for the night. They said they’ll handle any emergencies that come in before the morning.”

Miller sees the exhaustion in Jackson’s eyes. “That sounds like a good plan.”

Jackson takes a breath. “I don’t know. Clarke’s been working nonstop too though.”

Miller takes a step closer to him. “True. But you’ve been through a lot.”

Jackson seems to accept that, the two men get in line for their stew, and they eat quietly.

Then they walk hand in hand back to their tent, and Jackson washes down the sleeping pill with a swig of water. Miller sits cross-legged atop his sleeping bag, just watching. He almost wants to get up and do a happy dance upon seeing Jackson drift off and remain asleep. But he restrains himself and continues to sit, quietly and contently. Well, he is as content as possible given the circumstances. The sun goes down and it’s hard to see inside their tent, but Miller hears Jackson’s breathing continuing on, steady and solid, the mark of good, deep sleep.

_Day one back on earth has been…okay. Nobody died so that’s a win. Hell, even the fights between Wonkru and Eligius weren’t that bad. Madi is maybe possibly okay. Jackson isn’t exactly okay but he’s asleep and he really, really needs that. I’m going to sit here by the tent flap and make sure no one and nothing bothers him. And yeah, it’s still weird as hell that we’re back on earth._

***

The sleeping pill has helped force Jackson’s body and mind to rest, and he is able to function better the next morning. He wakes early, kisses a half-asleep Miller goodbye, and relieves Niylah and Clarke.

He can only swallow down the guilt. It’s clear that the med tent was busy last night, and Clarke already has so much on her plate. Her mother died just days ago, Madi experienced trauma, and Clarke is one of the leaders of this camp. The last thing she needed was a full night on duty here. Jackson opens his mouth to either thank her or apologize or both, but Clarke smiles, pats his arm, and heads off to whatever her next task is.

A few days go by. Jackson works inside the med tent and Miller stops by when he can. Any time it’s possible, they take their meals together – sometimes joined by the others who they consider friends and family. Niylah and Gaia pay special attention to Jackson and ask him how he’s doing. He doesn’t open up much, but he tells them – sincerely -- he appreciates just that they are asking.

Jackson sees Madi occasionally at meals; once or twice he sits with her along with Clarke and Bellamy. Knowing it needs to be discussed, Jackson pulls Clarke aside one day and brings up the topic he dreads. They talk about it. Clarke says that she has discussed what happened with Madi and that Madi hasn’t been eager to talk about it, but that Clarke will continue letting her know that she is there to listen to her when she’s ready. Clarke awkwardly apologizes for not being there to stop Sheidheda earlier, Jackson awkwardly responds that there is no reason for her to apologize for that and he knows she did her best.

A most surprising interaction happens a few days after the group returns to earth. Murphy enters the medical tent, clearly not injured and heading straight for Jackson. Jackson’s defenses instinctively go up. Although he knows that Abby loved Murphy, Jackson has a harder time with him. The man is unpredictable and doesn’t follow rules. He was the first to jump into the water on Sanctum despite Jackson’s protestations that his injuries hadn’t healed. Shortly afterwards he tried to goad Miller into a fight. And more importantly, Jackson is still not convinced that Murphy is blameless in Abby’s death either. But Jackson reminds himself to be fair. Abby loved him for a reason, and Jackson’s interactions with Emori have been good – and she must love him for a reason too.

“Just wanted to say that I went through something like what you did,” Murphy says quietly – but directly. For a second, Jackson appreciates the fact that Murphy is not dancing around the subject or conveying any awkwardness. He’s not shifting his weight or avoiding eye contact as he talks. “It was years ago. Ontari – don’t know if you remember her, she tried to be Heda after Lexa – put a collar around my neck and made me do stuff. It was fucking horrible. But I survived it.” Murphy shrugs. “Look, I’m here if you need me.”

Jackson is nearly speechless, but he manages a “thank you” and leaves it at that.

He still, overall, feels numb though. Jackson enjoys sleeping spooned with Miller at night – sometimes taking a sleeping pill beforehand, but not every night so as to conserve supplies – and he feels the warmth from his partner. But still most of the time, Jackson has a sensation almost like he’s watching life through a video and not really experiencing it.

The expressions of concern from people do help though. Miller checks in on him often, as his schedule seems light, and Clarke takes more shifts in the med tent than she should. Jackson suspects they now owe even more to Octavia, Clarke and Bellamy than they did before. These are the people who kept Wonkru together (Octavia), got the bunker open (Bellamy and Clarke), got Miller out of Mount Weather (Bellamy and Clarke) – and here they are now, giving Miller fewer shifts or covering some of Jackson’s so the two can have some time off.

“Yeah, we owe them for all eternity. So what’s one more item on our tab?” Miller replies sarcastically with a shrug. “Come on. We both got the afternoon off, it’s warm out, and there’s a lake that’s a 30 minute walk from here. It’s really beautiful and you’ve never even seen it. We’re going swimming.”

Jackson doesn’t protest. He takes Miller’s hand and they walk the trail towards the lake. Jackson knows he needs to appreciate Shallow Valley’s beauty – their new home is lush with trees, bushes, wildflowers, and birdcalls. But recouping the ability to appreciate such things too, he guesses, will take some time.

Still, when the trail opens up and the lake comes into view, Jackson does realize he’s smiling. It’s blue and calm, and maybe even a bit dazzling with the sun hitting it. A small group of Wonkru are swimming together, and further down a couple of Eligius people are enjoying the water as well. Jackson doesn’t protest when Miller begins stripping down to his underwear and hanging his clothing over a bush, and instead he follows suit. He takes Miller’s hand and they wade in.

“This is nice,” Jackson says, once he’s adjusted to it. “That med tent gets hot this time of day.”

“Right? It’s real pretty out here,” Miller agrees. “Maybe we can make this a habit when we both have the afternoon off.” He smiles. “And it beats the three minute showers at the wash stations.”

“It does.”

The two don’t attempt to swim much, but they do stay afloat and just experience the water engulfing their bodies. It’s an odd sensation, Jackson muses, but a pleasant one.

“So hey, you missed some hot gossip at lunchtime,” Miller begins, with a smile.

Jackson returns Miller’s smile. Neither one gossips much with anyone else; this is something they share in private upon occasion. “Tell me,” Jackson insists.

“Bellamy and Echo have broken up.”

“I thought they already did,” Jackson remarks.

“Well it’s official official now. I still say he’s going to get with Clarke now.”

“Don’t disagree with you there.”

Miller goes on to share more information. Octavia seems more mellow now, and– for some reason – she and Diyoza seem to “be besties”. Jackson says that he saw Jordan at dinner a couple days ago and thinks he’s doing better, and Miller adds that Raven has been spending time with him which looks like it’s helping him recover from the maelstrom he lived through on Sanctum. They both agree that Gaia is handling the destruction of the flame remarkably well. There are rumors that Niylah is getting close to one of the Eligius women “but she wouldn’t tell me anything about it this morning,” Jackson says.

“Indra seems back to the way she was before Sheidheda,” Jackson adds. He sees a look of concern on Miller’s face and then continues, “I can say his name without flinching. Still makes me sick to think of him though.”

Miller nods.

Something about the distraction and the change of scenery – and maybe even the water itself – seems to help, Jackson notes. He knows that mentally he’s still not quite himself, but he also feels….okay. The unease that has been swirling around his gut since the assaults is gone, at least right now.

“So do we really have the rest of the day off?” Jackson asks. “Neither of us has to go back on duty until the morning?”

Miller smiles. “Is that almost…playfulness I hear in your voice?”

“Maybe,” Jackson smiles back. He cocks his head. “Do you want to head back to our tent? Keep each other company there?”

“Yeah!” Miller says enthusiastically.

***

After not long, both men are dressed and walking back, hand in hand, towards the camp. Miller isn’t fully sure what to make of what just transpired. He’d hoped that the dip in the lake would help Jackson in some way, maybe engage his senses in a new way and get his mind off of work and trauma. The tone of voice and look in Jackson’s eyes when he suggested they return to their tent were a tone and look that Miller knows very well. The first time he’d observed them was in the rover, before Praimfaya. He’s experienced them many, many times since. They are Jackson’s invitation to sex.

_Isn’t it too soon though? Does he really want it? Or is he thinking that I want it so he ‘should’ do it?_

Miller’s thoughts keep poking at him during their walk, and he determines there’s only one way to find out.

“So, uh, we’re going back to our tent and it’s not anywhere near bedtime yet,” Miller says, truly wishing that he was talented in all areas of the conversational arts, not just sarcasm. He still feels so out of sorts. “Does that mean you want to….?”

“Yeah. Do you?”

“Yeah. I-I just wanted to make sure that you were really okay with it. You know, I didn’t want you thinking that you **had** to or something.”

“I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t truly okay with it,” Jackson says insistently.

“Just wanted to check. Make sure you don’t feel any pressure.”

Jackson stops and looks at Miller. “You’ve been great. I don’t feel any pressure. I just really want….you know. The hugging and the kissing and….all the other stuff.”

“Okay, good. Me too!” Miller smiles. He brings Jackson in for a kiss and finds it eagerly returned.

***

Miller has always had to remind himself to take things in the bedroom slowly and not just rush to the more carnal aspects of it. Back when he was 16, before the Skybox, he and his then-boyfriend Bryan used to go at it quickly and almost frantically. They eventually learned to just slow things down and savor them instead of seeming to race each other to climax. And then later, of course, Miller got with Jackson who was six years his senior. He was glad that his technique had been refined a bit by then, especially since right from the start he could see that Jackson was definitely not a “race to the finish line” kind of lover.

But today Miller knows that things will have to proceed even more slowly than usual. He’s nervous, but coping by silently reminding himself to just slow everything down.

The kissing is going well. Now that the two men are alone inside their tent, disrobed and pressing their lips together, Miller feels that Jackson seems fine. He’s not recoiling from his touch or the slight press of naked skin against naked skin. Miller is just keeping his kisses restrained and delicate, careful not to get too crazy with his tongue. He wonders if Sheidheda kissed him during the assaults, and the thought sends Miller down a pathway of anger tinged with disgust. He quickly pulls himself off that path. He’s not a religious man but he has wished more than once that Sheidheda is now burning in hell.

“Let’s take this to the ground,” Jackson suggests. They get their sleeping bags in place and reposition themselves atop them. Oftentimes couples who have been together a while have positions that they just naturally fall into, and the same thing happens this afternoon. Jackson reclines on his back as per usual.

“Hey, uh,” Miller begins. “Just wanted to make sure that’s comfortable for you. Like would it be better if I got on my back instead? And, uh, did you want to play more of…you know, like take more of the lead here?”

“No,” Jackson answers firmly, and he’s smiling. “Now get over here.”

The kissing and the touching resume. Miller’s still worried but, well, he’s been given his ‘marching orders’. So he starts to relax and get in to it, finding a way to shunt his concerns and worries to a corner. They are still there and he doesn’t want to forget them, but he does want to focus on the here and now. And the here and now involves kissing Jackson’s lips, again with more delicacy than passion, and gently moving one hand to caress his body.

Jackson makes a few sounds that typically indicate that he wants Miller to take it to the next level. Miller again appreciates that all their years together means that they have this way of communicating. Still, though, he feels like he needs to get one more thought out. “You’ll tell me, right? If something doesn’t feel right?”

“Yeah. I will.”

“Okay. Okay, good.”

With that, Miller follows the non-verbal direction Jackson gave a moment ago.

***

Jackson thinks of what happened with Sheidheda, yes. Not just because he is getting sexual right now with his partner though – it’s more that the assaults are never too far from his mind at any given point. (Except when he allows himself the sleeping pill at night). But this is so clearly different than those horrible days inside the palace that Jackson finds that his subconscious is able to make the distinction. When he was being assaulted, he clearly was being used as nothing more than a couple of orifices to facilitate someone else’s orgasm, a way for one person to dominate and control another. That is so clearly not what’s happening here. Here and now, inside their tent, he’s able to enjoy Miller’s kisses and touches, to savor the connection that they have and the love they share.

And Miller is obviously doing the best he can, wanting to be the best partner. He’s moving so much more slowly than usual, which Jackson’s mind appreciates even as his body wishes for a bit more haste. Right now Miller is languidly making a trail of kisses down Jackson’s body as he’s arriving at his target. Jackson has always appreciated finesse, always viewed sex as much more than a series of movements leading to a climax.

“That’s nice. That’s nice, yes,” Jackson whispers as Miller’s mouth finally gets to where it was going. Jackson is soon latching onto the intense physical sensations. Just as their dip in the lake was new and exciting and pleasurable, this experience now is giving his brain something along those lines to focus on. (Except for the ‘new’ part.) He knows Miller really wants him to enjoy this and lose himself in it, so he does. Again, he has no problem separating this from what went on with Sheidheda and he takes a second to be thankful for that. Although his brain doesn’t seem to want to let him sleep much at night, it at least is granting him this – the intuitive understanding that he has nothing to fear now.

Not long afterwards, Jackson reaches his peak. He reaches for Miller to kiss his lips and murmur a few sweet nothings at him. Miller murmurs a few things back at him and kisses him again.

“Do you want to use your hands on me?” Miller whispers after spending several more moments on kisses. “We got some aloe here, that’d be good.” He reaches for his backpack.

“Yes but…we could do more than that. I’m up for it if you are.”

“Nah,” Miller says with a smile. “How about just hands for now? I’m pretty close anyway.” He cracks open the aloe stalk. “Thank you Sanctum for including these among the plants we brought back!” he adds with a laugh.

Jackson shares his laugh. He then ducks down and plants a kiss on the tip of Miller’s cock. He guesses that Miller might truly want more than a hand job, but he’s not going to second-guess his partner anymore either. Someday, Jackson knows, he will successfully convey to Miller that he’s okay with penetration and Miller will understand that it’s okay to have those things again. But for now, Jackson decides as he works the aloe onto his hands, he won’t push the issue any further. He reaches for Miller’s cock and begins to stroke it. Miller does a fair amount of grunting and groaning before climaxing and then pulling Jackson into another kiss.

They cuddle for a while after that and talk about nothing in particular. Miller drifts off to sleep even though it’s not even dinner time yet; he always did like to nap after sex any time it was at all possible. Jackson lies next to him, sometimes just looking at Miller, sometimes just relaxing and breathing.

_So, I have no problems having sex. At least not now, Jackson thinks. That’s good. The monster still haunts me at times but he didn’t take this away from me. I’m here with Nate and our family, and I’m safe._

At some point later, Miller wakes up. They cuddle together some more until Miller says, “I really need to pee.” As Miller starts to pull on his clothes, he grins and asks, “Hey, does today count as our first actual date? We had an afternoon off and went swimming.”

Jackson tilts his head and thinks about it. They first got together just days before the death wave. Then it was six years living inside the bunker where the only way to get through it was to be grateful for what you did have instead of mourning what you didn’t. “Going on dates” wasn’t exactly a thing inside the bunker.

“Wait, wait – what about in the bunker when Reg used to whip out his guitar and put on concerts? We’d go when we could. Or…that time on the Eligius before cryo?” Jackson asks thoughtfully. “We sat by the window and drank tea. Or coffee, or whatever that was.”

“Holding hands, no less. But uh, you were half asleep from treating all the emergencies in medical.” Miller pauses, “What about on Sanctum, when we first got there and before we realized how bad it was? Didn’t we take a walk around the pond and have a drink at the tavern? Blythe Anne smiled at us and asked if we were a couple.”

Jackson returns Miller’s smile and shakes his head. “If people back on the old earth could see us now and see what we consider a date.”

“There are rumors that someone found a stock of movies on the Eligius, and that we might get movie nights once they can get the big projector fixed.” He reaches to plant a quick kiss on Jackson’s lips. “Then we’ll really be having date nights!”

* * *

**THE END – FOR NOW**

**However I have a re-write of the second chapter, taking it in a completely different direction and I plan to post it as well.**


	3. Chapter Three

**Alternate Chapter Two**

_In this chapter, Clarke and team have returned to Sanctum and engaged Sheidheda’s people in battle. But they were not successful in killing Sheidheda or bringing the fight to a quick end._

_Note: Same trigger-warnings as chapter 1. There is more non-con and disturbing content- things get worse before they get better._

***

Jackson looks out the window of the room he’s locked inside of and tries to determine how the battle is going. He has a good view of Sanctum’s main streets given his place inside the palace’s luxury suite, but most of the battle doesn’t seem to be taking place there. As with any battle, there is pandemonium. Civilians run this way and that. The booming sounds of gunfire surround him along with various yelling and screaming.

From his limited vantage point, Jackson at first thinks that Clarke and the others are winning. The commander’s army seems demoralized and disparate. But Sheidheda must have said or done something to rally his people, and Wonkru now seems to be making a comeback.

Jackson sees the injured wandering around or laying on the ground calling for help. Of all the appalling things he’s had to live through the past few days, not being able to help is one of the worst. All he can do is look at them from the window.

The door to his room is suddenly being unlocked, and everything happens quickly from there. A Wonkru warrior grabs Jackson. “Come on. We’re going,” she says.

“Going where?” Jackson asks.

“Move, or I bind your wrists and carry you!”

Jackson would soon learn the answer to his question.

Unable to hold Sanctum during the battle, Sheidheda and his people are retreating to the forest. Someone had told him of the Children of Gabriel’s camp – either the Wonkru scouts had learned of it or perhaps one of the Children had talked. In any case, Jackson soon finds himself pushed, prodded and pulled along with the rest of Sheidheda’s people as they retreat.

Many times during the rush to the camp, Jackson considers whether he can make a break for it and run back to Sanctum. But he’s not the only one with this thought, and he quickly sees how deserters are treated. They are either shot on the spot or cruelly maimed. Sheidheda himself throws the axe that slices half of one man’s arm off. And again with another potential deserter – Sheidheda gleefully sticks a knife in the region of her private parts. “Anyone else care to desert your Heda??” he bellows.

So, Jackson continues on with the rest as they reach the camp. During all of the chaos, it’s impossible to stop and take a count. But as far as Jackson can tell, most of Wonkru is here. He guesses there have to be at least 375 of them, plus most of the Eligius people, and probably at least 100 Sanctumites as well. Sheidheda clearly succeeded in terrorizing enough people back in Sanctum and making enough examples of deserters that only a complete fool would risk making a run for it.

***

Once they reach the Children of Gabriel’s camp, things move quickly as far as Jackson can see. Since the camp was in use until very recently, it’s in good shape and stocked with amenities. Including a med tent. Jackson is finally allowed to put his skills to use and tend to the injured, as there are many.

Sheidheda himself stops by as Jackson is sewing up a wound. He lays a possessive hand on Jackson’s back, and Jackson has to fight his instinctive urge to shrink at his touch. “Don’t let our doctor desert either,” he says sternly. Jackson guesses he’s addressing someone who must be functioning as a guard, but Jackson has been so focused on his patients that he wasn’t even aware of the presence of a guard. It hardly matters. Jackson’s not going to risk deserting at this point, not after what he has seen. A permanently-maimed doctor is useless, and if he wants to see Nate ever again than he needs to stay alive and in one piece.

 _Nate_.

Jackson takes a breath. He can only hope that Nate wasn’t injured during the battle, can only hope that Nate is okay. But the fact that Clarke and her people were not able to win, not able to do more than force the commander’s army to retreat, simply cannot be a good sign.

Jackson forces his brain to do what it has been trained to do. Push all those external thoughts away and focus on treating the injured.

***

Jackson has no idea how long he was in the medical tent but he stayed until every patient received the care they needed. His body and mind are exhausted now, and he can only be grateful when the person who apparently is his guard shoves a canteen and a bowl of food at him and says, “Follow me.”

Jackson is led to a tent. He registers that another guard is stationed in front of it, and his escort gestures at him to go inside.

Jackson looks around. There are cots, there’s a table and chairs, and a few other supplies. Seated atop one of the cots is a Sanctumite man who appears to be perhaps 19 or 20 years old. An exhausted Jackson doesn’t hesitate to sit on one of the chairs and set his food and water atop the table.

He’s not too tired, though, to be courteous. “Have you eaten?” he asks the young man, before touching his food.

“Yeah,” the man answers.

Jackson drinks from the canteen and looks at the man. Tired as his brain is, the doctor can guess that because this person is Sanctumite and young, he must be Sheidheda’s other victim. Sheidheda has told Jackson a few times that he has another sex slave (not the term Sheidheda uses, of course), and this man fits the description.

“I’m Jackson,” he introduces himself.

“I know. Alex.”

Jackson nods in acknowledgement. Alex doesn’t seem like he’s in the mood for a conversation, and frankly, neither is Jackson. So he sets about eating the food he’s been given and then hoping he’s permitted to sleep for a bit. Adrenaline carried him through the past several hours but he’s exhausted now.

For once lately, Jackson’s luck holds. He finishes his meal, claims one of the cots, and falls right asleep.

***

When Jackson wakes, he’s alone inside the tent. He has no idea how much time has passed, though he recalls that it was getting dark outside when he entered this tent and the light poking through now suggests morning. The bowl he had eaten from is gone. Jackson blinks and looks around. He recognizes a few of the articles of clothing that have since been strewn around the room, and he sees a chess set now too. Sheidheda has been in here. He has already been assaulted by the man many times but just seeing evidence of his presence makes Jackson’s skin crawl once more.

Jackson opens the tent flap and speaks to the guards stationed outside. “I’d like to check on patients in medical,” he says, surprised at how firm and steady his voice sounds. “And I need the bathroom.”

The guards look at each other and one replies, “Come with me.”

While being escorted from the tent to the latrines and then on to medical, Jackson gets confirmation of what he guessed yesterday. Hundreds of Sheidheda’s people have made it here and the camp is already well-organized. In the distance he sees Sheidheda speaking with Knight and a few others who Jackson would guess are considered his higher-ups. They appear to be talking battle strategy.

The topic of battle strategy makes Jackson think of Indra. The last time he saw her, she’d been relegated to working in Sanctum’s kitchens. He hopes that somehow she survived the battle. Maybe she made it back to Clarke and the others and they will come up with a way to liberate this camp. Jackson is no military strategist but he sees that Sheidheda’s people clearly have the advantage in numbers. Liberating this camp doesn’t look likely to happen soon.

Jackson also doesn’t see any sign of Madi at the camp. He can only hope that somehow during the battle at Sanctum she escaped or was rescued. Or maybe she is here at camp, kept under lock and key. Murphy and Emori were also on Sanctum when Sheidheda first took over, but Jackson hasn’t seen either one since.

Once again, Jackson has to force out any thoughts of his loved ones. Just as when he was in Sanctum, he has no idea if Miller is alive or dead. He has no idea if he will ever see him again. But there are people in medical who need dressings changed and wounds examined, so Jackson gets back to work. He simply has to do as he’s done since the day Sheidheda captured him and force down the anxiety and despair.

When medical is emptied of patients, the guard escorts Jackson back to the tent he’d been in before. “Heda wants you to stay here when you’re not in the med tent,” the guard says. “This is to be your place.”

The guard has barely spoken even a sentence to Jackson today. It’s still hard for Jackson. He knows every member of Wonkru. He helped them in the bunker, ate in the same dining room with them. But no one here seems to make too much eye-contact with anyone else, acting almost as if they are strangers. They know how badly they have fallen, they know the days of Blodreina inside the bunker were far better. And Jackson guesses that many Wonkru must pity him given what they know of his situation. It doesn’t feel good to be pitied. Well, nothing feels good now. He knows he’s mostly hollow inside now anyway.

Alex is in the tent when Jackson returns to it, sitting on the same cot as yesterday. He seems to brighten when Jackson enters.

“Hi,” Alex says.

“Hi,” Jackson returns the greeting.

“So you, uh, you came here on the starship with the others? Were you….what are the two groups again? Wonkru and El- El something?”

Jackson doesn’t mind speaking with Alex. Glancing around the tent, it’s pretty bare except for the items belonging to Sheidheda like the chess set and clothing. He guesses that Alex must be bored out of his mind – on top of the trauma that he’s likely experiencing. Alex probably could use a mental distraction, something to take his mind off of just waiting for Sheidheda’s next assault. So, Jackson decides to open up and talk, just reminding himself not to share anything that any member of Wonkru doesn’t already know about him.

“Wonkru,” Jackson answers. “Before that I was part of something called Skaikru, and before that just….a citizen of the Ark. We lived on a space station orbiting earth. We thought that the 2,200 of us were the last of the human race.”

Alex seems very interested and encourages Jackson to continue. Jackson can gather that Alex, like most Sanctumites, has heard bits and pieces of the stories of the different groups on the Eligius and is glad for a chance to get the full background. But Jackson is eager to hear more about Alex, so after sharing more of his story, he then asks about Alex’s.

“Not much to say,” Alex says, shrugging. “I have two parents and one sister. If they’re still alive. Our lives kind of fell apart when your people came. No offense.”

Jackson nods in response. Alex isn’t wrong and he can’t argue with him. True, a place where your religion teaches you that you’re worthless if you’re not a “prime” and that you should abandon your “null” children to die in the woods isn’t exactly a paradise, but Jackson can’t say that the people who came over on the Eligius have made things any better.

“I ended up here,” Alex continues, “when some of…Heda’s people started asking for names of guys who are into other guys. I guess they started knifing people when they wouldn’t answer at first. Someone gave me up, and….” He lets his voice trail off.

“Yeah. Same thing happened to me,” Jackson says in acknowledgment. He looks down at his hands in his lap. He’s not sure what to say. They are both in the same predicament and Jackson can’t offer any concrete reason for optimism. Even if he could, it’s not a good idea. The guards outside can probably hear them, and Sheidheda might punish them if they talk about even hoping for a rescue.

Not that there is much worse punishment than repeated sexual assaults.

“You didn’t mention a family,” Alex says. “Do you have one?”

At this point Jackson decides that discretion is better. True, every member of Wonkru knows about Miller but it’s still better not to give that information out. Maybe no one has mentioned Miller to Sheidheda, and if so, that is a blessing.

“No blood relations,” Jackson answers truthfully. “My last living relatives were my mom and my grandma, but they died a long time ago. Before the Ark went down.” He pauses and then just decides to add, “I also recently lost a woman who was like…well, like an Aunt to me.” Abby’s loss is just one more wound to add to his list of aches right now.

The two continue talking, with Jackson careful to avoid anything too revealing. After some time, the tent flap opens and Sheidheda steps through. Sadly, both of his victims are well-trained and they immediately rise from their cots.

“Ah. I always planned to do something with both of you at the same time, and our circumstances have made that happen even sooner now,” Sheidheda says with one of his creepy smiles. With a gesture of his hand, he says, “You know what to do.”

Jackson knows that means he wants them to undress and kneel. He does so, with Alex quickly following in suit. Being constantly degraded like this is brutal, but after seeing how Sheidheda treats deserters, Jackson has no desire to see what would happen if he doesn’t comply.

It doesn’t get any easier, not that Jackson ever expected it to. He can’t decide if having Alex here – someone in the same boat – provides a measure of comfort, but in the end he truly wishes Alex were safe and sound back with his family. Sheidheda is more talkative today, Jackson notes, perhaps because he has two victims at once. He speaks several times during the activities he forces on them.

“See Alex,” Sheidheda says a little while later. “This is how you do it. Just take the whole thing in. You said you’ve been with other men before; I don’t know why you never learned to give a good blow job.”

“I’m sorry, Heda,” Jackson hears Alex reply. “I’ll try to do better.”

“Good. You should focus on pleasing your Heda. It’s an honor to take my cock.” He pulls back from Jackson for a moment. “Right, Jackson?” he asks, looking down and grinning.

“Right, Heda,” Jackson gasps, taking a second to breathe. He knows that disagreeing or answering with anything other than total obedience would not be worth the price.

“I’m going to finish inside your mouth,” he says, looking down at Jackson and then grasping his hair tighter. “Get back to it – and Alex, pay attention.”

“Yes, Heda,” Alex says.

Mercifully, Sheidheda leaves them alone for the rest of the day. Jackson finds he doesn’t want to speak and politely declines Alex’s conversational overtures. Later in the day a guard escorts Jackson to medical to check on various injuries.

Knight has a bandage that needs changing. There aren’t too many people inside medical right now. Jackson glances up at the guard who is standing quite a distance away, thinking this might be a good opportunity to see if Knight has any information.

“What’s the plan here? It looks like we’re setting up camp to be here a while,” Jackson whispers. “Are we going to try to re-take Sanctum?”

Knight is silent for a second. He takes a quick look at the guard and then answers quietly, “Still being worked out. Clarke’s people struck hard but they flubbed at the end, giving us enough time to retreat.” He adds, “I don’t think we’re planning to retake Sanctum anytime soon though. I think we’re waiting them out, wanting them to come here so we can fight on our territory.”

Jackson nods, his eyes on the bandage. His voice is barely audible as he asks, “What about Miller?”

“He was there,” Knight whispers back. “Last I saw him, he wasn’t injured – but you know how battles go….”

Jackson exhales. Knight is correct, Jackson knows, and anything could have happened afterwards – but just the fact that Knight glimpsed Miller alive and well fills Jackson with something between relief and hope. Wherever Miller went with Clarke, he at least made it back to Sanctum alive. He might have survived the rest of the battle.

They can no longer stall, and soon Knight is getting off the chair and leaving the med tent. As Jackson works on his next patient, he thinks of something else that gives him a measure of comfort. _If Nate is still alive and if we are ever reunited, at least I don’t need to worry about him blaming me for this. He will still love me, he won’t be disgusted at me for what Sheidheda has done, he’ll still want me. Nate and I are committed together through good and bad, through tempest and calm – and let’s be honest, most of our time together, life has not exactly been easy._

A few moments later, Jackson hears noises in the background and can just feel a shift in the mood inside the med tent. He turns his head. Sheidheda.

 _It feels like I just saw him. Is he going to rape me here too, in front of the patients?_ Jackson again can only remind himself to stay in endurance mode. S _urvive. Just survive._

Sheidheda walks around medical and speaks briefly to one of the injured. He then stands behind Jackson and puts a hand on his back. “I see that your work here is very impressive,” Sheidheda says. “The others who’ve been treated by you have lots of good things to say.”

A compliment from Sheidheda?? Jackson isn’t sure what to do other than instinctively tense up, as he does anytime Sheidheda is around.

“Thank you, Heda.”

“It seems like you have so many talents. Your skill in the bedroom and as a healer.”

Jackson has no idea how else to respond. He opens his mouth to thank Sheidheda again, but the commander speaks first. He apparently is addressing the guard. “Make sure that no harm comes to Jackson. I want his guard doubled! I consider him to be the most valuable person here after myself.”

“Yes, Heda,” the guard answers.

* * *

**Miller**

Back in Sanctum, Miller needs to manage his emotions.

Their plan failed miserably. When it came down to it, Sheidheda gave Clarke a choice: save Madi’s life and let his people flee to the woods or kill Sheidheda – and Madi.

Miller reminds himself the Clarke made the choice that any parent would have made. He cannot fault her or get angry at her. If his own father had been alive and somehow been given the same choice, he would have done what Clarke did. Clarke and Bellamy and Octavia have saved Miller’s life many times, and he needs to follow their orders and appreciate what they have done.

Sanctum now is populated by about 75 people. Some of them are non-combatants like Blythe Anne who were never part of Sheidheda’s army and had just been used to serve them. A handful are people who hid or fled during his reign: some Sanctumite, some Children of Gabriel, some Wonkru, and some Eligius. There are also a few former members of his army who successfully deserted. Miller is relieved to see that Indra is one of them. She has a nasty wound on her shoulder – the same shoulder that never fully recovered from Pike’s attack – and they don’t have a doctor here. Clarke, Niylah and the one Sanctum nurse who survived are very busy treating the injured.

Miller walks around the medical center, watching Niylah and the Sanctum nurse work. Again, he tries to get a hold of his emotions. Medical centers remind him of Jackson. Miller’s failing – at controlling his emotions, at everything - so he leaves. He aimlessly walks the mostly-empty streets of Sanctum for a few hours or maybe most of the day, he’s not sure.

He sits in on strategy discussions as the group considers and debates what to do next. They have lost both the advantage of surprise and of the Bardo suits. Sheidheda’s people outnumber them by at least five times – far more when you consider that the majority of people here in Sanctum aren’t soldiers or trained for any sort of combat duty. Unlike Sheidheda’s people.

Miller’s leaders know that they need more information, so they decide to send scouts. Miller volunteers but Bellamy stands next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I need you to sit this one out, Miller,” he says quietly. “I know you’re not in the best place right now. And we got others who could do the job.”

Miller wants to protest but doesn’t.

At one point, he is alone with Emori. He asks her, “Are-are you sure? Absolutely sure what you saw? Or what you heard?”

Emori takes a breath and looks down for a second before meeting his eyes. “Sheidheda kept him inside a room in the palace. It-it was well-known. He’d asked for men who liked…being with other men. If someone took too long to answer, he knifed them. Someone eventually mentioned Jackson’s name and they took him out of medical and brought him to the palace. I think they took some other guy from Sanctum too.” Emori swallows. “Madi was forced to watch it once. They used her to force him to go along. It was right after that….” Emori’s voice trails off. Miller knows the rest. Right after that Gaia returned, grabbed Murphy and Emori, and joined the rest of the group on Bardo.

“I haven’t seen Madi much,” Miller says. He’s never sure what to say now.

“Clarke’s been talking to her, trying to help her cope with what she saw,” Emori answers, her voice still soft. “I’m sorry, Miller. I-I guess if nothing else, the fact that Sheidheda took him with means that he has no intention of killing him.”

“Yeah,” Miller answers. Emori’s not wrong. She’s trying to help.

Sometime later – Miller has no idea when, he’s lost track of time – he finds Emori again. “I want to see it,” he says. “The room where Sheidheda kept him.”

****

The doubling of his guard doesn’t impact Jackson that much. He has no plans to escape, not wanting to risk death or torture and knowing that he has no way to evade the warriors guarding the camp’s perimeter. Last night another attempted deserter was caught and tortured in public with Sheidheda clearly enjoying every second of it, according to the person who brought Jackson his breakfast one day.

A few days go by and they feel fairly similar to his captivity in Sanctum. Jackson spends his time either in the tent where he sleeps or in medical. He eats without tasting or enjoying the food, bathes daily, and tends to the sick and injured – all under watchful eyes. A guard even stands and watches him as he showers in case he’s going to make a break for it in the middle of bathing. Just as in Sanctum, Sheidheda makes regular visits, usually at least once within a 24-hour period.

The main difference between Sanctum and now is that Jackson shares his tent with Alex. Sometimes they talk, sometimes they are silent. Jackson has learned that Alex is 20 years old, that he enjoyed Literature and History in school, and he had been working in Sanctum’s factory. He was close to his parents and sister, and talks often about how much he misses them. Alex never talks of having had a boyfriend, but Jackson isn’t about to ask; if Alex had a boyfriend or even an ex, the man could be at risk if he’s here among the Sanctumites who have been roped into Sheidheda’s army.

It’s a strange situation, Jackson muses, and he and Alex never really get into a rhythm in terms of their interactions with each other. Both men are undergoing the same trauma together, they are strangers, they just can’t provide much comfort to each other especially as neither is in a position to offer any. Sheidheda doesn’t seem like he intentionally pits them against each other, though he is vocal in letting them know how they can better please him.

About the group’s overall plans and future, Jackson learns little. Knight’s words that they are not in a position to retake Sanctum appear to be true. Walking from one tent to another, Jackson sees the others doing combat drills constantly but that is no surprise – Wonkru spent much of its time in the bunker doing the same. Jackson has no idea when or if Sheidheda plans to make his move on Sanctum.

Jackson wonders what exactly happened during the battle. Knight mentioned that Clarke’s people “flubbed” their victory. Jackson gathers that perhaps Clarke and the others had the element of surprise at one point, but it has been lost. He trusts that Clarke, Bellamy, and Octavia are working on a plan, trying to come up with something to give them an advantage – since they are clearly outnumbered many times over.

Just as in Sanctum, Jackson alternates between feeling numb and tense. He has shut his emotions off as much as possible. One night, though, he falls into a deep enough sleep to dream, and his dreams are full of Nathan Miller. He’s in his arms, they are cuddled together. Miller feels so warm and substantial, and the dream is lifelike. When Jackson wakes and realizes it was just a dream, he doesn’t sob but he is so forlorn that he can barely move. He doesn’t want to go to medical and help those who need it. His heart just aches. But he finds a way to compose himself, and he forces himself to get on with his day.

* * *

**Miller**

The room inside the palace is empty now, of course. Miller looks around it. He walks up to the bed and finds that all of a sudden he’s sniffing the sheets. They don’t smell like Jackson though. He doesn’t know that Jackson slept on the rug and rarely was on the bed. He takes another look around the room and he registers something that his mind overlooked the first time.

A jacket. Jackson’s jacket, neatly folded atop the dresser. It is warm in here, Miller notes, so maybe Jackson preferred to be without it. He grabs the jacket and buries his face in it. He’s not sure if he’s trembling or crying, and he doesn’t know how long he stays there before Bellamy is suddenly by his side.

Bellamy pulls him into a hug. “Hey, hey,” Bellamy is saying. “Remember, we think he’s probably alive. We don’t think they have any reason to kill him. He’s a doctor – even someone like Sheidheda wouldn’t kill a doctor. He needs one for his army.” He pauses and repeats emphatically, “He’s not dead.”

“I might never see him again though.”

“You’re still breathing. There’s hope. I went for six years doubting I’d see Clarke again and now we’re together.”

Bellamy pulls out of the hug and places both hands on Miller’s shoulders. “Let’s see what the scouts say when they get back,” he says, meeting Miller’s eyes. “There has to be a weakness….something we can use. We’ve taken down other monsters before and we’ll take this one down.”

Various others approach Miller sooner or later to offer comfort. Gaia, Niylah, Clarke, even Indra. Clarke apologizes for what happened during the battle and Miller tells her she doesn’t have to. Indra takes a breath and says she saw Jackson once during his captivity when she’d been tasked with bringing food to him. “He was alive and in once piece,” she says. “No visible injuries.” She echoes what Bellamy said, that the scouts will return soon and their intel will help.

***

One afternoon a guard enters their tent and says to Jackson and Alex, “One of you. Come with me.”

When neither moves or responds, the guard simply grabs Alex perhaps because he is closer. Jackson remains seated on his cot. When he’s not in medical or with Sheidheda or speaking to Alex, he has constructed several ways to pass the time. He does breathing-exercises and tries to meditate – strategies which served him well in the bunker too. He does pushups, sit-ups, and other exercises as long as he’s feeling well enough. Jackson has asked his guards if there are any books, pens, or paper available. There are not – but he is given a needle and thread to use to mend clothing. He is supervised at all times when he has the needle though and he needs to return it to the guard when finished, as if he could take down the mighty commander with such a weapon.

Alex returns some time later. Jackson is used to seeing Alex looking glum at best – who wouldn’t be given their circumstances? – but he notes that Alex looks even worse now.

“What happened?” Jackson asks softly. “If-if you feel like talking about it,” he adds.

Alex eventually shares. Apparently instead of devoting his people’s energy to battle plans, Sheidheda had them take skulls and bones of deserters and use them – along with other materials – to fashion a throne. Alex says that the throne itself is horrifying. “Then he decides he wants to have sex on it,” Alex adds, disgusted. He describes the rest – the position Sheidheda had Alex take on the ground with his rear accessible to the commander as he sat on the edge of his throne. “And with all of his guards right there,” he adds.

Jackson doesn’t know what to say, and it’s hard to offer words of comfort when you know that you will likely be next in the depravity. But Jackson manages to say a few words of condolence, Alex nods and then clams up, slumping down onto his cot.

 _Am I wrong for not trying to escape?_ Jackson wonders. _When I first got here, I immediately wrote it off as a possibility. I want to be alive to see Nate again someday. But I don’t know how much longer I can take this, being raped day after day._

He tries to think through some options. There are some drugs in medical that can induce coma, and others that can make one appear to be dead. He plays it out in his head. _What good would that do though? If they think I’m dead, they either bury me or turn my bones into the next throne. If I’m in a coma then that’s really playing with fire since there’s no other doctor here – though it would perhaps save me from being assaulted for a little while._ He tries to think of some other ideas, wondering if he can perhaps take mood-altering drugs to at least make his time here less agonizing. _No_ , he decides. _No drugs. Taking any of them would be a theft from a patient who needs them. Once the drugs wear off I’ll still feel as miserable as I do now. And besides, I saw what Abby went through when she tried to medicate her pain away._

He revisits the idea of escaping, but again he can’t see any way that would work. The commander’s army includes Sanctumites who know the layout of these woods – woods that Jackson would be lost in. Even if he had a map, he doubts he could outrun the well-trained Wonkru warriors. He has no idea how he’d slip passed either the guards assigned to watch him or the guards assigned to walk the camp perimeter.

 _Is there anyone who might help me escape? Maybe someone who I helped in the bunker, or whose loved one I treated?_ Jackson considers this but discards the idea of asking anyone for help. It’s too much to ask of someone especially when any helpers would risk death or dismemberment for assisting with his escape.

 _Can I make up some reason that I need to go back to Sanctum? Is there something Sheidheda values that he doesn’t have here?_ But Jackson can’t think of any remotely plausible excuse, and Sheidheda would never let him go, certainly not alone. The idea of even asking is laughable.

_So this is it. Back to square one. Stay and endure, and hope for a rescue. How long will it be though? What if it’s years? At some point do I just give up and take my own life rather than be degraded and brutalized each and every day?_

* * *

**Miller**

Echo and Nelson led the scouting mission and they have returned now. Miller vaguely remembers meeting Nelson on Sanctum a few times before. Nelson explains that there are at least 500 people in Sheidheda’s camp. He says that the former Children of Gabriel headquarters is fully-provisioned and can easily support them for a long time. The armory is fully stocked too, along with their food and medical supplies.

Echo says, “The Wonkru warriors are training the Eligius and Sanctum people. Seems like, from what we can observe, that’s all they do all day – prepare for battle.”

“They’re waiting us out,” Nelson adds. “On what is now their turf.” He shakes his head. “And we’re outnumbered by more than five to one.”

It is clear that a traditional battle is un-winnable for Clarke’s team. So they look at other options.

Miller tries to listen to Raven and Gabriel. They give an update; they are trying to repair the suits and get the anomaly stones to work again. Miller is too exhausted and horrified to make any sense of what they say other than the general idea that they are trying their best and getting nowhere.

Other ideas are brought up. They have a starship - can they leverage the Eligius somehow? But its only weapons are along the lines of hytholodium, which even in its smallest quantities would have the same result it had on earth. And obviously they can’t just indiscriminately drop weapons on Sheidheda’s camp anyway or they could harm the innocent. They discuss whether they can offer to trade the ship for the release of anyone who wants to go. But the ethics of such a plan are debated as is the wisdom of giving Sheidheda a starship or trusting him to follow through on any negotiations.

Octavia then comes up with an idea: use the Eligius to drop knock-out gas on Sheidheda’s camp, and then swoop in wearing gas masks to take him out and bring the others to safety. This is the best idea so far, but they don’t have any knock-out gas on the Eligius or in Sanctum.

Sanctum has a factory though. Clarke orders Raven to take point and start on it right away – seeing whether or not they can manufacture the gas.

“I don’t know if we have everything we need,” Raven says. “But I’ll get right on it.”

Nelson warns that there are some gas masks in the camp. He’s not sure how many, but he thinks that last time he was there he saw about a dozen.

With the meeting now dispersing, Echo approaches Miller. “We didn’t see him,” she says, her voice low and serious. “It probably doesn’t mean anything – he could’ve been inside a tent the whole time. We mostly kept our eyes on their fighters, and he wouldn’t have been with them. Just wanted you to know that we didn’t see him.”

Miller nods in acknowledgement and sees Bellamy approaching him.

“Hey, Miller, when’s the last time you got some sleep?”

“I don’t know,” Miller answers. He thinks that perhaps he fell asleep at one point in this meeting room as the group waited for the scouting party to return, but he’s not sure. He tries to remember his last time sleeping on a bed in Sanctum and a memory stabs him like a knife. “I’m not going back to that farmhouse!”

“Okay, okay,” Bellamy says. Vaguely Miller realizes that Bellamy’s tone is soothing, as if he’s speaking to a child. Miller knows he needs to do better but can’t. He just can’t. “There are rooms above the tavern. We slept there when we first got to Sanctum.”

Miller opens his mouth to reply but no words come out. He and Jackson slept in one of those rooms during their first few nights on Sanctum – before they had the farmhouse. Everything reminds him of Jackson. He looks down and realizes he’s still clutching Jackson’s jacket. He doesn’t remember having had it with him. He realizes that he can’t remember much from the time he left that room in the palace.

“I have an idea.” It’s Niylah and she’s putting a hand on Miller’s back. “Come with me to medical.”

Miller follows her. He lets her administer a sedative and guide him to a sofa in the med center’s office. He is out like a light.

***

**Miller**

When Miller finally wakes, he has no idea how much time has passed but he does feel refreshed, his mind clear at last. He looks around. Someone has left a tray of food for him, though he glances at it and decides to wait until his appetite returns before eating. Jackson’s jacket has been neatly placed over the chair. He touches his hands to it, exits the office, and sees Niylah counting bottles of medicine in the main medical center.

Niylah looks up and smiles. “There’s good news,” she says. “Raven says she can make it. The gas. She’s got Emori, Jordan, and a whole team working on it.”

“How long?” Miller asks, his throat dry.

“They don’t know. She said at least six or seven days to make it. And a couple days to make…changes to the ship so it can drop the gas right on the camp. That part I don’t understand much,” Niylah admits.

Miller realizes he’s exhaling in relief and that he feels the first rumblings of an appetite in days. If their plan works, Jackson just needs to stay alive – and then they will be reunited.

***

A few more days pass, each one similar to the one before. And then something else happens.

Jackson notices that Alex has been tight-lipped lately. It doesn’t strike him as too odd though. During their hours in the tent together, they seem to have run out of neutral conversational topics. Both men go through phases where they don’t want to speak; they both seem to cycle through horror, shock, and depression – thus, long periods of silence do not feel surprising.

On this particular day, Sheidheda is with both of them inside the tent and has just finished up.

“H-Heda?” Alex begins meekly. “I wonder if I may ask you a question?”

Jackson does not look at either Alex or Sheidheda. It’s dark inside the tent aside from a dim lantern. He just listens.

“What is it?” the commander responds.

“I miss my family. My parents. I-I wanted to ask for permission to go back to them. Y-you don’t need me here and I want to go back to my family.”

As Jackson listens, he knows this is a very bad idea, and he is right. He hears Sheidheda rummage around. He turns his head in time to see Sheidheda make a movement and Alex let out a muffled yelp.

 _He’s killed him,_ Jackson thinks. _He’s murdered him just like that with a knife._

But then it becomes clear that that’s not exactly it. Sheidheda chuckles and holds up something as Alex makes muted, agonized sounds. “Here you go!” the commander says. “Jackson, take a look at this. It’s a good lesson for you. Here’s what happens to one of my boys when they make ridiculous demands.” He chuckles again. “You were never any good at dick-sucking, Alex, so you really don’t need your tongue anyway.”

And that is what happened. Sheidheda has cut part of Alex’s tongue out. He drops the piece of flesh onto the floor. “I can still fuck you,” Sheidheda continues. “The only thing you’re good for really.”

Jackson spends a second silently debating himself. He wants to ask for permission to bring Alex to medical for treatment. But he also wants to keep his own tongue. He says nothing. A doctor with no tongue and no ability for speech is less-helpful, and Jackson is dealing with enough mental and physical hurt right now. He will treat Alex best he can here, but he will not protest.

“Well, that’s all for tonight. Goodnight, my boys,” Sheidheda continues. He grasps the back of Jackson’s head and plants a wet kiss on his lips, as he sometimes does.

Jackson finds that to be just as vile as everything else. Still, he plays his part. “Goodnight, Heda.”

***

It looks like Alex will live. Jackson does what he can to stop the bleeding. He waits a long time after Sheidheda has left, and then he asks one of the guards to escort them to medical. He patches up Alex best he can, administering drugs to help with the pain. Eating is going to be a problem for Alex since most of the foods here are solid, but Jackson figures he can keep Alex alive for at least a while using IV bags. Maybe enough of Alex’s rations could be mashed into small enough pieces that he can get them down without most of his tongue.

Jackson remembers that a few times, in desperation, he had almost considered pleading with Sheidheda, saying words to the effect of ‘I have a husband, please let me go back to him.’ He is glad that he never did that and he now has proof of what the outcome of such a request might be.

He does wish that he were back in the bunker. Year six of the bunker with no hope of getting out and a failing hydrofarm was a special kind of hell, but at least then no one was torturing him and he was with people he loved.

***  
 **Miller**

As Raven and her team work diligently, Miller joins Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia, Echo, Gaia, Niylah, Nelson, Hope, and a handful of other fighters in preparing. They have to be ready for the fact that Sheidheda will see the Eligius coming from a mile away and will have time to put gas masks on himself and perhaps a dozen others - and then either flee or make a last stand.

So they train wearing gas masks, a new and uncomfortable experience for all of them. Miller is glad that he has something to focus on, something to do. He thinks it is exactly what he needs right now. When he’s trying to use a sword or engage in hand-to-hand combat while wearing the bulky mask, he can focus on nothing else. Even shooting a gun and accurately hitting a target is harder with the mask, and he knows he will have to be perfect. A memory pops into his head – Becca’s Island, years ago. Miller tried to take out the drones there as Murphy berated him for his lack of accuracy. Murphy wasn’t wrong. Miller knows that when it’s time for this battle, he cannot miss now.

And in case Sheidheda plans to flee, they train for that too. They practice pursuit on Sanctum’s motorbikes, and they train on foot as well. Miller runs like he’s never run before, faster and further and always with the gas mask on. He’s almost a little reckless on the bike, as Indra points out to him, reminding him to not let his emotions take over.

Indra is too injured to join them but she observes every session and offers feedback. She can’t use a gun with only one working arm but she will be there – despite her daughter’s protestations – on the day of battle, sword in her one functional hand.

The group of Sanctum people who join them in training aren’t as skilled as they are, but they try hard. One of them is a young woman who says that Sheidheda has her brother. She doesn’t want to share anything else, but Miller remembers all too well that Emori said Sheidheda took a Sanctum man so he could sexually assault him, and something in the look in this woman’s face makes Miller think that’s what her brother was taken for and not his fighting prowess.

Nelson draws map after map of the camp and the area surrounding it. Miller memorizes them like they are the antidote to a poison he just drank. His days of sleeping in class are over; he treats this like a test in which he must get not one answer wrong. It’s something else to focus his mind on, and he needs it too.

Miller eats with those he’s training with and thinks about how much he respects and even loves them. They are a good group, even Echo and Hope whom he barely knows. At night Miller returns to the sofa inside the medical office. This is the best place for him to sleep right now since it doesn’t carry the memories that the farmhouse or tavern hold. Jackson’s jacket remains perched on the chair. Everyone asks him how he’s doing and offers to sit and listen if he wants. They are generous with their compliments on his training. Even Octavia and Indra. Sometimes Niylah offers to rub his neck and shoulders, and he lets her. Miller takes it one day at a time, one training session at a time, and he allows himself to grow optimistic.

***

The myth of the Stockholm Syndrome did persist into the 22nd century though it is generally understood that no reliable studies ever backed it up. Jackson certainly does not feel it in his own experience, not in the least. He never feels anything for his captor other than revulsion. Jackson is opposed to killing in principle but he knows that if he could, he would take Sheidheda’s life without a second thought.

Those thoughts circulate through Jackson’s mind one day and he finds himself trembling with rage. He envisions himself for a minute like Octavia or Indra, wielding a sword and striking his nemesis down. He allows himself to imagine how satisfying it would feel.

He pushes those fruitless feelings aside and returns to his breathing exercises and meditation. He closes his eyes. Air in, air out. He is successful in re-directing his focus.

Later, he hears Alex approach him and tap his shoulder. Alex makes the gesture that Jackson understands to mean that he wants more drugs. Jackson looks at him. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?”

Alex holds up ten fingers.

Jackson has always made it a habit to listen to his patients, to believe them, to never discount what they say even if it’s regarding something that can’t be easily quantified like pain. But Alex has been given a lot of drugs since Sheidheda maimed him. The camp will eventually run low. When they do, then someone will need to go forage for medicinal plants.

“Okay,” Jackson says. “Next time I’m at the med tent I’ll bring you back some.”

Alex’s gestures clearly indicate that he wants the drugs now but Jackson shakes his head. “You just had a dose this morning. They usually bring me to medical right after lunch and that’s just a few hours away now.”

Alex rages best he can in his current state. It involves a lot of grunting, gesticulating, and even stomping of his feet. Jackson understands. They are trapped inside a cage, literally and figuratively, and Alex has every reason to be furious. And he has no good outlet. Jackson remembers reading about farmers who used to raise animals for food; those who kept the animals in extreme confinement often had to main or drug them to keep them from getting aggressive and engaging in self-destructive behaviors. Alex seems with each passing day to grow more aggressive. Jackson knows that he himself is not the cause, but the real cause is unassailable so Jackson can only hope that someday he doesn’t bear the brunt of Alex’s muted rage.

Alex choked on his meal the other day. Fortunately Jackson was there and administered the Heimlich. Alex is getting careless with cutting up and mashing his food into small enough pieces to get down. (A guard stands over Alex when he is given a knife to cut his food, and the guard takes the knife as soon as he is done). Again, Jackson can’t blame Alex for getting sloppy, for perhaps not caring if he lives or dies.

Ignoring Alex, who is currently pacing around and punching the air, Jackson rushes to the tent’s small window when he hears sounds. The noise seems to be coming from above, so Jackson cranes his head up best he can. He sees people running and hears noises. Jackson recognizes these sounds well. Battle. He pokes his head outside the tent flap, but one guard remains outside the tent, looking tensed up, and yells at him to get back inside.

_Are we being rescued? Can I dare hope??_

A curious hissing sound grows louder, and then Jackson smells something that he has experienced once before in his life. Knock-out gas. Jackson has just a few seconds to register it and tell Alex to sit down before he loses consciousness.

***

**Miller**

“Getting ready to drop the gas now, almost in position,” Emori’s voice comes through over their comms system. She’s with Raven on the ship.

“Hurry, hurry!” Clarke insists over the radio.

“He’s making a break for the supply tent! He’s got Knight and a few others with him. Can’t get a clear shot here!” Echo’s voice sounds over the radio. She’s on the ground and she’s had eyes on Sheidheda ever since the teams moved into their positions. As the group had anticipated, as soon as Sheidheda saw the Eligius approaching, flying very low, he and his top soldiers ran for the supply tents.

Miller takes all this in from his assigned position. He’s ready. His mask is on and it has become like a second skin to him during all his time spent training. He peers through his binoculars and listens to the radio. His gun is at the ready; it too feels like an extension of his own body. He watches the gas drop onto the camp in several tight, concentrated blasts. Sheidheda’s people start to stumble and then collapse.

“It’s working! They’re dropping!” someone says.

“Teams 1 and 2, move closer in,” Clarke orders.

Bellamy says, “I see him. Mask on, leaving the supply tent…I count five or six others with masks.”

“Any idea where he’s going? The woods?”

“No, he seems to be heading deeper into camp. So are the others with gas masks. They don’t look to be making a break for it.”

They see Sheidheda dash into a tent and come right out, holding onto someone. Miller continues to peer through his binoculars, and his heart drops. Sheidheda is making a move that Clarke had anticipated, had warned Miller and the others to expect. He has grabbed someone to use as a bargaining chip, and that someone is arguably the most important person there: the sole doctor.

“Clarke Griffin!” Sheidheda bellows, grasping the unconscious Jackson with one arm and a knife with the other. His voice comes through loud and clear despite the gas mask he wears. “You and your people will come out unarmed and with your hands up or I slit his throat! I give you three seconds!”

The team’s next moves need to happen in fewer than three seconds. Miller’s insides are lurching in panic but he is staying steady, his hands firmly on that gun. But he doesn’t have a clear shot from his new position – he’s not sure that he can get Sheidheda without getting Jackson.

But Echo is closer and she can. Just as Sheidheda begins his countdown and yells the word “One!” an arrow pierces his midsection. He reflexively startles and moves slightly. Miller has a clear shot right now and takes it. Sheidheda goes down.

Miller rushes in, once the rest of Sheidheda’s people with gas masks have been put down as well. He makes sure Sheidheda is indeed dead, and then he looks at Jackson. It’s hard seeing him just lying there unconscious, and Miller’s steadfastness crumbles a bit. There’s blood on Jackson. Clarke rushes up and touches fingertips to Jackson’s neck. “He’s fine,” she’s saying. “Just knocked out from the gas. The blood isn’t his. He’s okay.”

***

When Jackson begins to wake, it slowly dawns on him that he has a terrible headache, a dry mouth, and he’s no longer inside a tent. Wherever he is, it smells different, much more sterile and less woodsy. It’s cooler.

Then he remembers – the knock-out gas. Last time he experienced it, it had been back in the bunker and when he’d woke up, he’d learned – agonizingly – that Sergeant David Miller had been among the members of Skaikru who were not chosen. He opens his eyes now, his mind composed enough to hope that circumstances are better this time around. He looks around and realizes that he’s laid out on a couch inside the med center office. Back at Sanctum.

Slowly sitting up and blinking a few times, he sees a note on the desk next to a glass of water and a tray with rations. The note reads:

_Jacks, I’m helping to clean up after the battle but you’re safe in Sanctum. Niylah and the Sanctum nurse are there in medical if you need anything. Love you so much and can’t wait to be with you again. – Nate_

Jackson exhales and for the first time feels an unbearable weight lifting from his shoulders. He then drinks the water and enters medical to see who needs treatment.

***

**Hours after Sheidheda is killed**

After having taken the unconscious Jackson to Sanctum and ensuring he’s left in good hands, Miller drives the motorbike back to rejoin the others in their clean-up efforts. There is a lot of work to be done. Over 500 members of Sheidheda’s army need to be gathered up, taken aboard the Eligius, and either put into cells or restrained. Although the group knows that Indra is right when she says that most of them had no choice but to bend their knee to Sheidheda, the fact is that some of them could still be loyal to their dead leader and might view Clarke’s team as the enemy. Until all of that can be sorted through, Sheidheda’s people need to be restrained. And Clarke has no more than 30 people on this mission, which means that this will take some time.

When Miller returns to the camp, he is immediately put to work hoisting unconscious people onto carts and stretchers and bringing them to holding cells on board the Eligius. When those are filled, the unconscious people are simply restrained with handcuffs or ropes. Gradually, they begin to awaken. Miller rushes to aid Jordan in holding back an angry young fighter; Miller recognizes the guy as he’s formerly Wonkru.

“What is going on here??” he bellows, fighting against the ropes that Jordan has retied. “Where’s Heda?”

“Heda has been defeated,” Miller says firmly. “He’s dead. Blo-Octavia and Clarke and Bellamy are giving the orders now, and you’d best follow them.” He takes a breath and uses the man’s name, “Come on, Brocc. You’re a reasonable guy. You can’t tell me that you ever really wanted to follow Sheidheda, can you?”

Brocc is silent for a few moments, darting his head about. “No,” he admits. He then adds quietly, “He’s really dead, right?”

“Took the shot myself,” Miller says with a hint of pride. He then adds, “After Echo got him with her arrow.”

Miller knew that would make Brocc smile. He was Azgeda before Wonkru. “Echo Kom Azgedakru,” Brocc says proudly. He then looks down at his restraints. Several of his former teammates are visible to him, scattered throughout the Eligius’ hallways, also restrained and also beginning to wake. “I understand that you can’t trust us all right away. But can I have some water? Maybe get these ropes off soon?”

Jordan speaks up. “We’ll come around soon with water.”

Miller is itching to get back to Sanctum and back to Jackson, but he can’t let his duty slide. His friends all came through to rescue Jackson and defeat Sheidheda, and there are still many other Broccs to deal with right now. They need to be treated fairly and humanely too, of course, so the clean-up operation involves getting the prisoners things like water and medical care.

Miller does see something, or someone, particularly disturbing when he does a run-through of the holding cells. He has been assigned to do a quick check to see if anyone has serious injuries that were overlooked earlier. There’s a young man inside a cell and he’s clearly different than the others. He’s not dressed in typical grounder combat gear. Miller doesn’t recognize him; he’s definitely not Wonkru. He doesn’t have the rough look of the Eligius crew or the Children of Gabriel either, so Miller can immediately tell he’s Sanctumite.

“Okay,” Miller says, to the young man and the two others inside his cell. “Checking to see if anyone needs urgent medical care. You two are standing up so I’m guessing you’re okay.” He looks at the Sanctumite who is slumped against a wall, sitting on the floor. “You okay?”

The man responds with groans and grunts, holding his throat and shaking his head.

“Can you talk?” Miller asks gently. It’s dawning on him that there is more here than meets the eye.

The young man shakes his head and makes a gesture as if writing. One of his cellmates speaks. “Sheidheda cut out his tongue. He was one of his sex playthings.”

Miller looks blankly at the man who spoke, as a feeling of nausea takes over him. His legs are wobbly. The man who spoke is not Wonkru so Miller doesn’t know him. He looks to be either Eligius or CoG. Too many potential responses flood Miller’s brain. “W-what?” Miller asks. “Did he…do that to everyone? Cut out their tongues?”

The man seems to realize that he’s touched a nerve. “I don’t think so. Uh, I mean, I think he only had two. His other sex plaything was a doctor, I think. Um…I didn’t hear anything about him cutting out any other tongues.”

Miller fumbles for his radio. When he brought the unconscious Jackson back to Sanctum, he didn’t see any injuries. But he didn’t exactly force open his mouth and peer inside it either. “Niylah, come in please!” he speaks into the radio. “Niylah!”

“I’m here,” Niylah responds. “But make it quick – Clarke and I are getting ready to operate on someone. He took a terrible fall when he was knocked out by the gas.”

“Is Jackson awake yet? Did Sheidheda cut out his tongue?”

And then comes Niylah’s calm and collected reply, which on another day might have been funny. “Hold on, I’ll check!”

Miller stands around and breathes. Meanwhile the young man sitting on the floor of the cell is looking exasperated and shaking his head. The Eligius man who spoke a moment ago goes on saying, “I’m sorry, I mean I don’t **think** he cut out anyone else’s tongue. Maybe I’m wrong. Uh, I’m sorry I used the term ‘sex plaything’? Seems like it bothered you.”

Miller ignores them, and Niylah’s voice sounds over the radio a moment later. “He’s still out like a light, so I stuck my fingers in his mouth – after washing them of course. He still has his tongue.”

Perhaps someday, years later, the two of them will laugh about this conversation. But for now all Miller can do is continue his work and hope he’s able to be reunited with Jackson soon.

***

As Miller expected, it’s a long time before he’s able to sit in a quiet place with Jackson and just hold him. As soon as Jackson regained consciousness, he got right up and worked with Clarke, Niylah, and the Sanctum nurse to treat the wounded. Bellamy and Octavia, meanwhile, are working on a schedule to rotate some of their people off duty so they can take breaks for rest.

“So hey,” Bellamy says, approaching Miller and holding a tablet. They are standing in one of the Eligius’s corridors. “We’ve all been up nonstop since we left on this mission. You wanna take a break now or wait?”

“I think I’ll wait,” Miller says. “Jackson’s still working, so no point in taking a break now.”

Bellamy smiles, and Miller can see exhaustion and pride in his eyes. “We did it. He’s alive and well.”

“I know,” Miller says. He shakes his head. “I’m so relieved…I have no words…” He doesn’t want to say more, doesn’t want to get any more choked up than he’s starting to feel. His last few weeks he has spent every moment laser-focused on the mission, trying to just push his fear and anxiety away, and now the mission is over. They did what they needed to do.

At some point later Miller is finally on his way out of the Eligius and back to Sanctum. The word is that everyone who needed urgent medical care is stabilized and that the medical team is going to finally take a break. Miller’s heart pounds as he drives the motorbike and Sanctum’s medical building slowly comes into view. He charges through the medical center’s doors and then cautiously opens the door to the main room. The Sanctum nurse sees Miller and simply points in the direction of the office.

The med center’s office is where Miller slept for most of the past few weeks. And as Miller opens the door right now, his heart jumps. Jackson is there, lying on the sofa.

He’s not asleep though. He’s clearly been waiting for Miller, and he jumps to his feet as soon as he sees him.

And then Jackson is back in Miller’s arms. After a truly hellish couple of weeks – which Miller knows were far more hellish for his partner – they are together, holding each other tightly. They remain that way for a long, long time.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Miller asks, still hugging Jackson against him.

Over their years together, they’ve developed a communication rapport and they generally understand each other. So Jackson’s reply doesn’t feel terse. “Not now,” he says and they leave it at that, both just glad to finally be together.

Not long later, they are shutting off the light and removing the cushions from the couch, placing them on the floor so they have a bit more room. Wordlessly they fall into their spoon position and enter a state somewhere between asleep and awake. One of them might doze for a bit but wake after awhile, thrilled and relieved that the other is right there beside him and just taking a minute to savor that fact before returning to sleep.

***

**Two days after rescue**

It’s been four hours, although Jackson doesn’t know it. Four hours since he showered and put clean clothing on. He intended to put socks on next. He sat on the bed, a fresh pair of socks in his hands, and now four hours have gone by.

Miller’s on duty now so he’s not there with Jackson. Miller is on a lighter schedule since all of his superiors have insisted he take time off and spend it with Jackson. But this morning when Jackson is frozen happens to be one of the times that Miller is away. Talking with and evaluating all of Sheidheda’s former army is a monumental task, and Miller doesn’t want one person behind bars who shouldn’t be there.

It is Gaia who knocks on the door and gently coaxes Jackson out of his frozen state. When she tells him the time, he truly can’t believe it.

Madi brings him flowers later that day. He flinches when he sees her, horrified at what she had to witness back at the palace. One of the first things he did after he was rescued was to ask about her and how she was doing. Jackson quietly thanks her for the flowers and looks at the bouquet. During his years inside the bunker he would have nearly wept at the sight and scent of flowers, but all he does today is blink. The flowers just don’t seem real to him.

***

**Four days after rescue**

Jackson asks Alex to come to medical for a check-up, and Alex arrives accompanied by his sister. Their parents were killed during Sheidheda’s first rampage, so Alex’s sister is his sole relative.

Alex is looking too thin and Jackson wants to run some tests; he has more supplies and equipment here than at the camp. Alex carries around a tablet so he can communicate with people. He writes that he and his sister are working on creating a sign language, and Jackson sees them use it today. As Jackson watches Alex depart, he fleetingly thinks that one of two things will happen over the months and years to come. Either he and Alex will bond over their shared experience or they will completely avoid interacting or even looking at each other. The truth, as the weeks and months go by, will turn out to be somewhere in the murky middle.

***

Life on Sanctum continues. Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia, and a few delegates from the four main factions (Sanctum, Wonkru, Children of Gabriel, and Eligius) form a governing body. They plan to hold elections in a few years. Right now they are focused on making sure everyone has food, housing, medical care, and something to do. They ensure that members of each faction are assigned to work together. Some days it appears to be a functional society, other days the different groups look like they are a step away from each other’s throats.

Bellamy works with Sanctum’s one surviving teacher to get the school back up and running.

Raven and Gabriel set about fixing the toxin and radiation problems once and for all.

Jackson and Miller thank the others soon after the rescue. Everyone played a part in toppling Sheidheda. Raven worked nonstop in the factory and expertly flew the ship into position. Clarke led the team despite having lost her mother recently and having to deal with a traumatized Madi. Echo took the crucial shot at Sheidheda, her legendary accuracy paying off. The list goes on and on, though most everyone acts embarrassed and says they don’t need to be thanked.

Madi is resilient as always and seems to rebound from the trauma. She has a supportive family that dotes over her which has to help.

Indra and Octavia make it clear to Miller that they still consider him their right-hand man.

Jackson does what he always does, treating those who need it. During some of his better moments, he starts planning for the future, thinking of doing what Abby did: training an apprentice to become a full-fledged doctor. He asks Bellamy which of the students are experts at math and science, and if any of them seem like they have a desire to heal others. Then Niylah reminds him not to overlook the obvious: she wants the job. So Jackson turns his focus to her.

***

**Three weeks after rescue**

“So, how are you doing?”

It’s bedtime now. After that first night in the med center’s office, Jackson and Miller resumed sleeping in their room at the farmhouse.

Miller asks Jackson the question knowing that nighttime is especially difficult for him. Lately he’s either been waking screaming from nightmares or enduring anxiety so bad that he can’t sleep. It kind of rips Miller apart. He hates the fact that he can’t do much about it other than convey that he cares.

“Okay,” Jackson says. He takes a breath. “I’m going to try something Clarke mentioned the other day. Instead of worrying about whether I might get nightmares or an anxiety attack, I’m just going to say ‘bring it on’. Like I’m not going to tense up hoping they don’t happen.”

Miller nods. “Just let them happen.”

“Right. Maybe that will work,” Jackson says. “And if it gets really bad, I’ll take another sleeping pill tomorrow.”

Miller knows that Jackson has been trying to avoid taking sleeping pills or really any medication except as a last resort. He says it’s to conserve supplies, but Miller has also gently asked him if seeing what happened to Abby is a factor. It is.

“Hey, do you want the window open?” Miller asks. “It’s not cold tonight and there’s a nice breeze. The air smells so fresh.”

Jackson nods in reply, and Miller gets up to open it. He knows that Jackson has said he’s having trouble enjoying things he should enjoy like the sight of the stars at night or a fresh breeze. Maybe someday that will change.

When Miller climbs into bed, Jackson pulls him against himself. “You know how I said I feel numb?” Jackson begins. Miller encourages him to continue, so he goes on, “There’s one thing I feel really well. You. Your warmth. You got me through the worst of the times in the bunker. I was just thinking that the one….sensation I really experience is warmth from you.”

Miller pulls him tighter and plants a kiss on the back of his neck. “I love you,” he says.

“I know.”

***

**Three and a half weeks after rescue**

One thing Jackson has not been discussing with Miller is sex. Miller never brings it up; Jackson knows he should truly appreciate the fact that his partner doesn’t want to do anything that could feel like he’s pressuring or rushing him.

They have talked about the assaults that Jackson survived. He’s started to write about them, and he’s asked Miller to read what he’s written. They discuss it. Miller looks horrified though not surprised by all of it. The section involving Sheidheda’s throne does elicit a gasp and some tears from a man who never cries.

But the topic of the two of them ever having sex again hasn’t been brought up. Jackson assumes that Miller’s sex drive is as robust as ever, or nearly so. He wonders if maybe he takes care of himself in the shower or some other time when he’s not around.

Jackson does not fear Miller leaving him, cheating on him, or getting angry. Those things never really cross his mind. Two or three times during meals they’ve ended up sitting near Nelson, and Jackson thinks he sees….a spark of something in Nelson’s eyes when he looks at or talks with Miller. Jackson wonders about it occasionally but it truly doesn’t worry him. He thinks the last thing Nathan Miller would ever do is be unfaithful.

Gradually, over the past two weeks or so, stirrings of desire have been returning to Jackson. So one evening he pulls Miller closer and starts touching his chest in a certain way.

“Hey,” Jackson begins softly. “It’s been a while. Do you want to…try it?”

“T-that should be your decision, Jacks,” Miller replies gently. “I’m ready to try it if you are.”

There is some discussion and negotiation as clothing is discarded and kisses grow from sweet to intense. Miller suggests to Jackson that he take the lead, but that’s never been their thing and Jackson isn’t sold on that idea. “Maybe let’s just take everything slow,” Jackson suggests. So they do.

 _Damnit. Why is that monster here??_ Jackson knows that what is going on here bears little resemblance in any way to what Sheidheda forced. And yet. Here he is, naked with a man who has an erection. That shouldn’t be enough to make the memories flood back and cause Jackson to be infused with fear, but suddenly it is. He can’t go on.

“It’s okay,” Miller says gently. “It’s okay.” He shrugs. “Maybe we can try something else. Do you want a backrub?”

It continues like this for a few weeks, there are fits and starts. Jackson gets angry at himself and Miller mollifies him, reminding him that they are not in a race. Slowly the couple finds their way back to sex, back to enjoying this part of their relationship. Jackson is gradually able to lose himself in the sensations and the connection they have. He’s able to keep the fear and rage at bay.

***

**Four months after rescue**

Raven and Gabriel have solved the problems of the red sun toxin and the radiation. Many people now enjoy taking strolls in the forest. Bellamy often brings his students there for lessons.

But Jackson never re-enters the forest, never joins the others when they go on walks in the woods. He avoids walking by or even looking at the palace too.

***

**Seven months after rescue**

Emori and Murphy’s baby is the first one born in New Sanctum. Jackson helps deliver the baby, and for a moment as he watches the proud parents and their newborn, he realizes that he hasn’t thought of Sheidheda for at least an entire day.

But then that night, another anxiety attack and Jackson spends the next day shivering, remembering the assaults. He takes a breath.

_Two steps forward, one step back._

_You never really forget._

***

**And then months, and years**

More babies follow as months and years go by. Clarke and Bellamy become parents as do Hope and Jordan. Miller says it’s “too weird” as he holds Monty and Harper’s granddaughter. “Wasn’t that long ago that your **grandparents** and me were on a dropship together heading down to earth.”

Jackson and Miller find that they love being uncles and spending time with the kids. A new sort of purpose and even joy enters their lives, even if it means listening to Murphy tell them that they are doing this or that wrong. They often feel a very poignant sort of sadness when they have to return one of the kids to their parents for the day.

More time passes. Many discussions – both formal and informal – are held in New Sanctum about the need for more genetic diversity, more babies, in order to ensure the survival of the human race. Gaia happens to mention to Miller and Jackson one day that since that she’s no longer Flamekeeper, she can have things like a family. She says she doesn’t really want a spouse but that she does want to become a mother. Discussions continue and the topic is turned over, debated, at times briefly tabled but always returned to. The three eventually draw up an agreement and decide to give it a try. It turns out to be one of the best decisions they ever make. Over the years there are certainly disagreements and debates and even arguments, but all three of them find that they love parenting. They go on to have a second child. They see a whole new side of Indra now that she is a grandmother.

One evening after the kids have gone to bed, Jackson and Miller sit together on the farmhouse porch. They are watching Sanctum’s “second moon”, Miller drinking a small glass of port, Jackson drinking tea. They hold hands and they both understand that life is good.

**THE END**

_Thank you for reading! Although I imagine that parts of it were as hard to read as they were to write, I hope the happy ending worked for you._

  
_Also, sidenote: my apologies for the term “Sanctumite”. It’s never used on the show but I thought it made sense?_


	4. Epilogue 1

**Epilogue**

_**A/N – I wanted to go back to this fic and write an epilogue to expand on some parts and shine a spotlight on the character Nelson. As with so many characters on The 100, Nelson left me intrigued and wanting more. The epilogue ended up getting long, so I’m breaking it into multiple parts. It all takes place after Jackson is rescued from Sheidheda** _

* * *

**Three Weeks After Rescue**

Miller is sitting next to Jackson inside Sanctum’s tavern. They’ve agreed that they need to sometimes do things differently and embrace the idea of leisure time. Stop feeling guilty or useless when they are not working.

Blythe Anne arrives at their table holding her tray. “Here you go,” she says, setting two drinks down. “Herbal tea for Dr. Jackson and hot buttered rum for Miller.”

“Thank you,” both men say simultaneously.

Miller eyes his drink, and Blythe Anne – who has been recommending that he try it – says, “Trust me, you’re going to love it.” She walks away and leaves the two men to their drinks.

Miller exchanges a look with Jackson, smiles and tilts his mug up. “Here goes nothing.”

Alcohol and sweets have always been rare commodities in Miller’s life. For much of his life, food itself has been a rare commodity. Miller takes a sip and reflexively makes a face.

“You don’t like it?” Jackson asks softly.

“Too sweet. Way too sweet.” He glances over his shoulder to ensure Blythe Anne is out of earshot. “Too rich too. Bellamy warned me I wouldn’t like it.”

“Well, it’s good to try new things.”

Jackson’s voice sounds far away. Miller gulps. These past three weeks haven’t been easy, nor did he expect them to be. He and Jackson spoke this morning before Jackson left for med bay. Jackson said he still feels numb. He said he had another nightmare last night but it wasn’t too bad, and he was able to fall back asleep afterwards. Sometimes Miller wishes he could beat the actual shit out of Sheidheda but the man is dead.

In any case, they are here inside the tavern to enjoy some leisure time and do a bit of socializing. The tavern is buzzing with activity as usual, though they are able to tune out the conversations going on around them. The couple has made plans with Nelson to meet here, and he soon enters, looks around the room, and nods at Miller’s slight wave. He takes a seat at their table, and the three men exchange greetings.

“What you got there?” Nelson asks, pointing at each man’s drink.

“Herbal tea,” Jackson replies. “I’m avoiding alcohol.”

Miller looks at Jackson as he speaks. He answered Nelson’s question straightforwardly, and Nelson doesn’t pursue it any further. Given the trouble Jackson has been having sleeping plus his mood swings, Jackson says that he thinks it best to not drink alcohol for now.

“Hot buttered rum,” Miller answers. He takes another swig and can’t help frowning. “This stuff really is sweet.”

Blythe Anne comes by to take Nelson’s order. He orders a scotch.

“Hey,” Jackson begins, looking at Nelson. “I just wanted to say thank you. I understand that you were part of the rescue effort. I’ve been so – uh, occupied since I got back here. I don’t know if I’ve ever said thank you.”

“Glad to be part of it,” Nelson says, with a wave of his hand. “Glad to take down a dictator. Maybe someday we can get a functioning democracy in Sanctum.” He corrects himself, “New Sanctum.”

“We’ll get there,” Miller says, though he truly wonders. Right now New Sanctum is governed by Gabriel, Diyoza, and what Miller sometimes silently refers to as ‘the holy Trinity’ – Clarke, Bellamy, and Octavia. They are managing to hold the different factions together, though of course the fact that none of the surviving Sanctumites have an official representative does not go unnoticed. But the few Sanctumites who have survived are people like Blythe Anne and Alex. Still a bit shell-shocked and not likely to rock the boat, at least not now. Clarke and the other leaders have said they will call for elections soon, once the place is stabilized. Most people who Miller talks to seem content with the fact that Sheidheda is gone and they have food, shelter, and are not at war. Most people have never lived under a democracy anyway.

“I still can’t believe I can just come in here and order a drink,” Nelson says moments later, after Blythe Anne sets down his scotch. “That’s new for me.”

“Would you…tell me a bit about your past?” Jackson asks, his voice tentative. “If you want to. It’s been so crazy for me that I – well, I still have a lot to learn about the people here.”

Nelson nods, and Miller listens to him begin. Miller knows the basic outline. Because Nelson was part of the rescue effort along with Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia and the others, they trained together and ate together. But he’s glad that Jackson will get a chance to hear it. He’s even more glad that Jackson asked about it. With Jackson sharing that he feels emotionally numb, Miller guesses it’s a good sign that he’s asking someone about their life.

“I’m what they call a null. Or used to call a null,” Nelson says. “None of my descendants – not that I have any– can ever be a prime. So my birth parents gave me up to die. The Children of Gabriel rescued me. Raised me. Made me part of their family.”

“I’m sorry,” Jackson says, looking at Nelson. “That you grew up here being made to feel worthless.”

“The Children of Gabriel gave me a purpose and taught me that I’m not,” Nelson says, with a small nod.

“We had a few…divisions like that on the Ark,” Miller says. “How you were viewed depended on which station you were born on. Bellamy and I would never have been able to become friends if we’d stayed on the Ark, because of that.”

Nelson nods and then, with Miller and Jackson’s urging, goes on to share a bit more about his life and his work. He mentions that he was eventually made unit commander.

“You had a good camp,” Jackson says. “Really well-stocked and well-designed.”

“We kept that place running best we could.”

Nelson talks more about the camp, and Miller wishes he would stop. True, Jackson brought the subject up but Miller is worried about the memories it could stir from the time Sheidheda held him there. He grasps Jackson’s hand just a bit more tightly; they have been holding hands almost since they sat down. It’s just an automatic thing they do when neither has to hold a gun or a medical device.

Fortunately Nelson doesn’t spend long on the topic and Jackson seems steady. Nelson takes a swig of his scotch. “What about you two?” he asks, his gaze in the direction of their hands. “Miller told me a bit about your lives. The Ark. The bunker.”

And then, for the first time this evening, Nelson smiles a bit. He doesn’t seem, to Miller, like the smiling type. “What about you two as a couple?” he asks.

Miller understands why Nelson is asking. During his time with Nelson, he never shared much about that subject in particular. It was hard for Miller to talk about Jackson while he was being held captive. Really hard, though all of his friends offered their listening ears. So Nelson has never heard the details before.

Jackson turns to Miller and smiles, and Miller’s heart is as melted now as the butter inside of his drink. Jackson hasn’t had too many reasons to smile lately, so this is a rare treat. But the topic Nelson brought up truly brings Jackson joy, Miller can see.

“We’ve been together for six years now,” Jackson says.

“He started it,” Miller says, looking at Jackson and raising his eyebrows. “He made a pass at me one night, and that was it for me.”

“He…took a pass on you?” Nelson questions, his brow furrowed.

“Oh. Sorry. That must be an expression you don’t use here. It just means…he let me know in a subtle way that he was interested in becoming more than friends.”

Jackson lets out a small laugh and again Miller wants to leap with happiness at seeing something other than sadness on Jackson’s face. “It wasn’t that subtle,” Jackson says.

“Hey, it was nicely done,” Miller says. “You got your point across.” He shakes his head, “Part of me couldn’t believe you were interested in me.”

“And part of me couldn’t believe that you were interested in me.”

“Damn,” Nelson says, placing his drink onto the table. “The way you two look at each other. I want someone to look at me like that.” His voice is somewhere between bemused and wistful.

“So you don’t….have someone?” Miller asks gently. He knows the answer, at least part of it. In the weeks he’s known Nelson, he feels fairly confident that if Nelson had a love interest he would have mentioned it.

Nelson shakes his head. “There was one guy. When we were teenagers. Never did anything more than fool around with each other.” He adds, “I’m not into women. Just men. And that one guy and I…well, like I said, we were just teenagers messing around. There was nothing there.”

“Maybe it will just take some time. I kissed a few frogs before I met Miller,” Jackson says.

“Ah ha, **that** is an expression that I understand,” Nelson says, waving a finger.

Miller studies Nelson’s face a bit. Although he agrees with Jackson’s sentiment, he’s not sure Nelson will get the chance to kiss too many “frogs”. Thanks to Sheidheda, Sanctum’s population – including many of the Children of Gabriel - has been decimated. Plenty of men in Wonkru were lovers of other men, but most of them didn’t survive the battle for the valley back on earth. Sanctum’s total population, the last of the human race, right now hovers somewhere under 600. It’s not a large dating pool for Nelson, especially when one eliminates those who are too old, too young, already paired off, not seeking a partner, or not men who are into other men.

The trio finishes up their drinks and continues talking for a while. Clarke and Bellamy then enter the tavern, stopping by their table and saying hello. But apparently before either of them can even find a table and order a drink, people come up to them with questions and issues. Miller makes eye contact with Bellamy a few times and keeps an eye on the situation, checking to see if they might need help. He’s off duty – and Clarke and Bellamy have an assigned guard keeping watch over them – but his instinct is to stand by.

“I should get going,” Nelson says, looking at Miller. “See if Gabriel needs me.”

Nelson takes his leave of Miller and Jackson. Miller checks once more on the situation but Bellamy waves him off. The people approaching Clarke and Bellamy are doing so in a calm manner and nothing looks as if it will get out of order. Indra has entered the tavern as well and sits quietly in a corner. Miller knows that situations can escalate quickly, but he will follow Bellamy’s directive along with his own instincts. There is no need for him to stay. So he takes Jackson’s hand and they walk back to the farmhouse.

“I like him,” Miller says, when he’s certain they are out of earshot of Nelson or anyone else. “He was really important in the rescue too. Trained with us every day, went all in.”

Jackson nods, but Miller can tell that his partner’s thoughts are elsewhere. “How are you?” he asks quietly.

Jackson is silent for a moment and shakes his head. “This place is the dream. The dream we had all our lives,” he finally murmurs. He’s looking around at the amber-colored sunset, the pond with its bright flowers, the colorful lanterns swaying in the breeze, the richly-hued homes they pass as they walk the pathway to the farmhouse. The gravel crunches gently under their boots. “Beautiful. Peaceful. Filled with good people….like Clarke and Bellamy and Indra and Nelson. But….” And here his voice seems to give out.

Miller gently prompts him after a minute. “But…?”

Jackson shrugs. “The same. I feel numb. Like I’m not really seeing any of this. Or feeling it.” He sighs, “I still miss Abby too.”

Miller holds his hand tightly. “Give yourself time. That’s all you can do.”

Jackson murmurs, “Thank you for being patient.”

Miller appreciates the sentiment but wishes that Jackson knew he didn’t need to keep thanking him. So he tells him that again.

They reach the farmhouse. Raven is outside on the porch, working on a tablet. Murphy, Emori, and Niylah are sitting in the living room, around the fireplace. Echo is puttering about in the kitchen. Madi likely is already in bed. Once they reach their room, Miller and Jackson undress and get under the covers. This too – their own room, their own bed replete with a soft mattress and plush blankets – is a luxury previously unknown to them.

“Good night, love,” Miller says, as they settle in under the covers.

“Good night, baby,” Jackson answers.

Feeling Jackson’s body against his, Miller has to fight his biological reaction. _Fight_ is too strong a word. _Tamper it down i_ s more like it. Jackson hasn’t brought up the topic of sex once since his return, and Miller strongly believes it’s not his place to bring it up. He will wait for Jackson to say when he wants to have it again. _**If** _he wants to have it again, Miller corrects himself. He understands the concept that sexual abuse survivors can react to the abuse in a variety of different ways, and that it’s his job to listen and support and show that he cares. He misses having sex with Jackson, misses it a lot. Talking with Nelson about the general topic of relationships and “fooling around” has piqued something inside Miller, but it’s also not that hard for him to clamp down on it. Just thinking of what Sheidheda did to the man he loves causes Miller’s stomach to turn.

**Four and a Half Weeks After Rescue**

Nelson is part of a construction team, working on housing. New Sanctum had ample housing before but there is still a need for more housing to comfortably accommodate all of Wonkru, Eligius, and the Children of Gabriel. New Sanctum’s leaders have assembled work groups, and the groups are diverse, usually consisting of members of each of the four factions. Thanks to a miscommunication though, something heavy was dropped onto Nelson’s hand. He doesn’t think anything is broken but he’s making his way to med bay, ignoring the throbbing pain.

When he reaches med bay, it’s deserted. That’s not a surprise – thanks to the decimation of their population, the only people left with medical training are Jackson, Niylah, and a Sanctum nurse whose name Nelson can’t recall. Clarke and Gabriel too, of course, but they are pretty busy trying to run the place.

Nelson continues to look around the empty med bay as he holds his wounded hand. He then thinks he hears a noise coming from the other room, and he clears his throat. “Anybody here?” he calls out.

A moment or two later, a door opens and Jackson and Miller quickly emerge. Nelson can glimpse a sofa and desk behind the door; maybe the two men were inside an office.

“Let me look at that,” Jackson says, rushing right up to Nelson. “What happened?”

He is all business now, tending to Nelson’s injury efficiently and promptly. Miller hovers nearby, handing Jackson a piece of equipment when he asks for it. Nelson silently observes them. It gives him something to do with his mind other than thinking about the pain. There is a glint, he sees, in both Jackson and Miller’s eyes. Miller has lost a certain…hesitancy he had around Jackson at the tavern a week and a half ago. And oh. Neither man has a jacket on, and Miller’s fly is down.

Miller catches the direction of Nelson’s gaze. “Sorry,” he mumbles, and he zips it up. He and Nelson then share a laugh, and Jackson joins them while simultaneously remaining focused on his task.

“I see I’ve interrupted something,” Nelson says, and he still has a slight smile as he says it. He also knows that his cheeks feel hot.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson says. Again, he is focused and serious now. “We shouldn’t have been doing that while I’m supposed to be on duty.”

“What’s the harm?” Nelson asks with a shrug. “You had no patients until I walked in. And it’s nice to know that things are going well with you two even after all your years together.”

He watches Miller and Jackson exchange a look which he can only describe as sweet. As Jackson examines Nelson’s hand and ascertains that nothing is broken, Nelson takes another look at Miller. “That’s a nice necklace,” he says. Miller’s lack of a jacket makes it easy to see the necklace, something Nelson has never noticed before.

“Thanks.” Miller glances at Jackson. “It belonged to Jackson’s mother. He gave it to me as a sign of our commitment.” He places a hand on Jackson’s back as Jackson continues to work. “I, uh, didn’t have anything to give to him though. My dad and I lost any family heirloom stuff when the Ark went down.”

“I hear there’s a jewelry shop in Sanctum,” Nelson says. “Haven’t ever been there myself. But if you two wanted to get some rings to exchange with each other, you could probably find them there.”

“We should check it out,” Miller says.

Nelson glances from Miller’s face to Jackson’s. “So, I have to admit,” Nelson begins. “I’m envious of what you two have. Do you two…know of anyone who might be good for me? Any man,” he adds, not remembering that he already told them at the tavern that he’s not into women.

Miller and Jackson exchange a look.

“What about…,” Jackson begins, naming two names.

Miller shakes his head. “They both died in the gorge. Hmmmm.” He continues to look at Jackson as he asks, “What about Harek? I think he likes both men and women.”

“He’s back together with Zifa,” Jackson says straightforwardly.

Miller names another two names, but Jackson says that both died here, in the first battle against Sheidheda.

“What about some of the Eligius men?” Jackson asks. “We don’t know any of them too well. But maybe they have someone…” he lets his voice trail off.

“We can’t exactly sit down and ask Diyoza to play matchmaker,” Miller says with a slight chuckle. “But let me see what I can find out. At last count there were about 90 of them left, and definitely more men than women.”

“Niylah’s made a couple friends over there. We can ask her,” Jackson says.

“Thank you,” Nelson says.

“There’s also…Alex,” Jackson adds. His voice is serious and thoughtful, which Nelson surmises it usually is – even before he had been a prisoner of Sheidheda. “The Sanctum man who was held captive with me. But I don’t know,” he adds, shaking his head. “He’s young. He’s been traumatized and maimed – and also, I think he supported the Primes.”

“There are still plenty of people here who look down on nulls,” Nelson says, looking down. “I’d certainly prefer one of your men.” He then adds, with a twist of his mouth, “I suppose I can’t write anyone off now though.”

“We’ll see if we can subtly get the word out,” Miller says.

“And hey,” Jackson says, looking at Nelson. “Don’t be a stranger. Let’s plan to do dinner sometime.”

“I’d love that,” Nelson says.

“Me too,” Miller says, “but Jacks, we’re terrible cooks!” He laughs and looks at Nelson, “We grew up eating nutrition cubes half the time. Right now we’re dependent on whatever Murphy or Jordan feels like cooking at the farmhouse, or whatever Blythe Anne is serving at the tavern.” He quickly adds, “It’s all good though.”

“You’re right,” Jackson says. “The other day we thought it would be fun to try baking cornbread. We took it out of the oven and it was hard as a rock.”

“And we’ll never hear the end of it from Murphy,” Miller mutters.

“Well truth be told,” Nelson begins, “I’m not a bad cook. I never minded being on food prep duty at the camp. I’m sharing a house with three other COGs now.” At first Nelson didn’t like when the Children of Gabriel were referred to as “COGs” but he now uses the term same as almost everyone else does. “I just need some advance warning, and the kitchen is all mine. We can eat there.” He looks down at his hand and adds, “We just might need to wait until my right hand is healed.”

The three men plan on a specific date for their dinner. Jackson then hands Nelson some medicine. “Take two of these, twice a day, morning and night. The pain should decrease measurably in the next 24 hours, but if it doesn’t, please find me. And needless to say, tell your team that you’re off duty for now. Can’t do construction without your right hand working.”

“Sounds good,” Nelson says, taking the bottle. “Well, I should leave you to what you were up to before I interrupted,” he adds. And again he can only smile at seeing the look Jackson and Miller exchange. He would have to describe it as glowing with a dash of…salaciousness. He wants someone to look at him with even just a hint of that.

Nelson walks back to the construction site to pick up his canteen. As he walks, he knows that his emotions are mixed. He truly is jealous of what Jackson and Miller have and he hopes they didn’t mind his saying so. He wishes he had someone to sneak off into med bay’s office with, someone to give a family heirloom to, someone to have and to hold. He’s also slightly hopeful for once. Miller seemed serious when he said he would subtly ask around. Perhaps there is an Eligius or Wonkru man out there for him.

**Seven Months After Rescue**

Jackson is on a high and he’s celebrating. He’s just helped Emori and Murphy deliver a healthy baby girl. The delivery was one of the easiest he’s ever worked on. And not only is Jackson ecstatic at the fact that mother and baby are doing well, but he himself realized at some point that he hasn’t thought of Sheidheda all day. He’s gone for hours and hours – at least 24 of them, he realizes – since he has thought of the hated monster. He feels light.

So he joins Miller, Octavia, Gaia, Jordan, Hope, Nelson and a few others for a game of soccer. The game is, for Jackson, completely exhilarating. He knows how lucky he is to be outside, free, moving unencumbered. He even scores a goal during the game.

When it’s over, he’s sitting on the bleachers next to Miller. Nelson joins them, carrying two canteens full of water. Jackson eagerly drinks from the one he shares with Miller. The water here on Sanctum is so much sweeter than the water he drank inside the bunker or on the Ark. He remembers thinking that back when they first arrived. It’s taken a while for him to again get attuned to small pleasures like that, but today he is savoring this refreshing drink.

“Any word from Emori?” Nelson asks.

Jackson glances at his communications device. Raven has created devices for everyone, so now contacting people is as easy as texting or calling them. “Nothing. Niylah’s with them now,” Jackson reports. He goes on to talk a bit more about the birth and the baby. He talks about Murphy holding the damp washcloth to Emori’s forehead. Emori later beaming with pride as she holds and soothes the crying baby. Murphy exhaling when the baby takes to the breast and drinks. “Her little cheeks went in and out as she drank!” Murphy had exclaimed.

“If I didn’t know better,” Miller begins, placing an arm around Jackson’s waist, “I’d think you wanted one of your own.”

“Well – I-“ Jackson trips over his words and then smiles with a small shrug. “It’s worth thinking about. Someday,” he manages.

“Lots of people are talking about how low our population is and how we need…more humans,” Miller says. His words are factual but he leans towards Jackson as he talks.

“Maybe we should keep thinking about it. Thinking about what it would be like. And see if there might be a woman who wants to go in with us on it.”

Miller nods. “I think we should. Keep talking about it, I mean. It would be a major life change but….well, but it also might be awesome.”

Jackson has no qualms about having this conversation with Miller even as Nelson sits right beside them. The couple has been socializing regularly with Nelson. He has cooked dinner for them a few times, and indeed is a fine chef as he’d promised. He’s taught them a card game favored by COGs and they often play it. Sometimes they play soccer together, other times they will simply go for a walk. Both men like Nelson.

Part of it is simply the thrill of meeting someone new. They spent six years in a confined space with Wonkru. They joke about how they sat for each of those six years at the same table for every meal, with the same people. They miss Abby and Kane, and they love Gaia, Indra, Niylah, and Octavia. But it’s just good to have someone else to get to know, someone who is truly interested in hearing about their lives back on earth.

And Nelson shares quite a bit of himself with them too. Their attempts to help Nelson find a partner have not been fruitful, and Nelson has wryly recapped all the details for Jackson and Miller over the past few months. At this point he has sat down for a drink with four Wonkru and Eligius men, potential mates. Niylah warned beforehand that one of the Eligius men was “kind of a jerk”, and Nelson told Jackson and Miller that he was on board with that assessment before his drink was even half-finished. Another man was simply too young – he was 18, and although Nelson doesn’t know his own exact age, he shared with Jackson and Miller that the age gap felt too wide to be bridged. The third man spoke slavishly about Blodreina, Madi, and the two times he was in the same place as Heda Lexa. Nelson admired his loyalty, but the man seemed to have no other interests and nothing else he wanted to talk about. (“Yeah, that tracks”, Miller had said – they had, of course, known the man as he was Wonkru. “It is kinda odd that a guy who likes to sleep with other guys spends his life obsessed with three women.”). With the fourth man there simply was no chemistry.

Jackson and Miller continue to chat with Nelson, sitting on the bleachers and drinking their water. Jackson is still enjoying the beauty of his surroundings and the invigorating feeling from the soccer game. The sun begins to set and the temperature cools, and Jackson wants to check again on Emori and the baby.

And then later that night, it happens. After realizing he’d gone for more than 24 hours without thinking of Sheidheda, the monster pops back into Jackson’s head and doesn’t leave. Jackson’s brain convinces itself that he is back there inside that horrible camp. The monster smiles and orders Jackson about, and Jackson has no choice but to comply with everything if he wants to live, no matter how vile it will feel. Sheidheda will eventually finish with him and leave the tent, leaving Jackson to tense up and shudder uncontrollably, dreading the next invasion, wondering when it will happen, grasping for a way to get his mind and his body ready for another disgusting assault.

With those treacherous sensations lodged inside Jackson’s mind that night at the farmhouse, an anxiety attack follows. A brutal one, beginning with the horrible feeling of dread in the pit of Jackson’s stomach and progressing to sweating and difficulty breathing. It’s going to be another sleepless night, he feels. He’d been doing so well, too, he tells himself.

_Damn him. Damn Sheidheda. Damn him for treating me like an object._

_And damn my own brain for letting me feel okay, letting me feel complacent, letting me enjoy seeing that baby girl and celebrating new life, just waiting for my guard to drop so I could feel like this again._

The sweating and breathing problems continue and then turn into waves of intense nausea. Jackson makes his way to the bathroom and kneels by the toilet. Soon, his dinner is coming back up. It happens in stages. The nausea continues and he waits for the next bout of vomiting.

But at some point, Miller is there too. His own sleep must have been disturbed, and now he’s there, kneeling beside Jackson and rubbing his back. Then he’s taking a cool washcloth to Jackson’s forehead. Niylah’s room is next to theirs and she must’ve heard something too, and she’s standing there now asking if he wants her to go get the anti-anxiety medication. Jackson nods. Miller hands him some mint leaves and then resumes rubbing his back, and Jackson gradually understands that he will be okay.

**Nine Months After Rescue**

“I’m sad that he hasn’t found anyone. He’s a great guy.”

“I think so too. There’s not much to be done about it though. So few people here.”

Jackson and Miller are standing on the porch of the farmhouse, waiting for Gaia and talking about Nelson.

“Yeah,” Jackson says. “Even when Wonkru’s population was at its lowest, it was higher than the population here.”

Miller nods. “I like him,” he says. “He’s tough as nails but he’s got this soft side underneath.”

“Just like you,” Jackson says, taking a step closer to Miller. “And he never gets into any self-pity about his upbringing.”

“I like that he’s seriously interested in us too. Interested in people, I guess. Like he never gets tired of hearing about the stuff we lived through before we got here,” Miller says straightforwardly.

“It’s rare to find someone who truly listens,” Jackson nods. “That’s one of the things I liked about you right from the start.” He pauses. “He’s handsome too.”

“He is.” He takes a breath. “I know he’s not lonely and he has lots of friends in the COGs. But it’s…not the same as having someone to love.” He puts his arm around Jackson.

“I know,” Jackson says somberly. “We’re lucky to have each other.”

Gaia steps out of the house and onto the porch, closing the door gently behind her. “Am I interrupting a love fest?” she asks with a smile.

“It’s always a love fest here,” Miller grins right back. And then, getting down to business. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

Miller, Jackson, and Gaia head down the pathway and start their walk. They have an important discussion ahead of them, and they want to get out of the farmhouse. As much as they love their found family, this isn’t the time to be overheard. And the tavern is too crowded; despite the small population on New Sanctum, the place is always buzzing.

“So,” Gaia begins with a breath, “where are your heads at on this right now?”

“We had a long talk last evening,” Jackson answers. “We would still like to consider it. We’re still very open to it.”

“I am too,” Gaia says. “I just don’t fully know how this will work. I feel like there are a million questions and details to work out. What if the baby’s in your room but I miss them and need to hold them? What if we disagree on…how to educate the child? How to discipline the child? What if I meet someone and fall in love with them, and they don’t like the fact that I’m raising a child with two other people?”

“You said last time that you don’t want a partner or a spouse,” Miller says with a smile.

“I know,” Gaia replies after a pause. “But one thing that all three of us have seen in our lives is that people and circumstances can change rapidly.”

“You’re right,” Jackson says. “And you’re also right that we will find a million things to disagree on.”

“Yeah,” Miller pipes up, “I have nightmares of the three of us getting into a shouting match – along with your mother – because we don’t agree on something.”

The group chuckles at the thoughts of it, though Jackson adds, “We’re laughing now but I’m kind of shuddering at the thought of crossing Indra.”

Miller playfully nudges him and adds, “You’re not the one who’s had Indra for a boss!” And then he quickly amends his statement, looking at Gaia, “She’s a great boss. Truly.”

The group laughs a bit more and then Jackson adds, seriously now, “But about disagreeing…I think the best thing we could do is discuss it. Regularly. Maybe we formalize it, have a meeting every week. We’re adults, we can talk things through.”

“Yes,” Gaia replies. She tilts her head up. “So many potential disagreements and challenges. But I suppose a traditional couple can have all the same problems. The difference with us is that we are three adults instead of two.”

The trio talks some more. They agree it’s too early to reach any final decision today, but they plan to keep discussing it, keep mulling over whether parenthood is something they really want and can do as a trio. Later, Miller and Jackson go over the discussion inside their room. They agree that it’s wrong to gossip, but they are not the first to note that it looks like Clarke might be pregnant.

“I think she is,” Jackson says. “All the signs are there.”

“Good for her and Bellamy,” Miller says. “He’ll make such a good dad.” He then adds, “Is it weird that I get warm and mushy inside at the thought of seeing Bellamy become a dad?”

“No,” Jackson says. His mood and thoughts remain serious and he doesn’t – for once – smile at Miller’s usual wry style. He shakes his head. “I feel bad that Abby’s never going to get to meet that baby. I still miss her. Like crazy.” He pauses and adds, “And good for Clarke and Bellamy for not waiting. We all know how short life is. They’re smart to…to get going on this.”

“Maybe we should too.”

***

**MORE SOON!**


	5. Epilogue 2

**Epilogue Two**

* * *

_**And as always, thank you to my beta testers, Penguin of Prose and L.** _

* * *

**A Year and a Half Since Arriving on New Sanctum**

Jackson realizes one day that he no longer mentally tracks time according to how long it’s been since he was rescued from Sheidheda. His brain has subtly made the switch, and he now tends to think of time more along the lines of when he and the others arrived in Sanctum, and when New Sanctum was officially created.

Sheidheda is still there, inside his mind, of course. Jackson shrugs and tells himself that Sheidheda will likely be there for a long time and will display himself in random, unexpected ways. One morning last week, Jackson found himself filled with rage, a rage he could find no logical explanation and no trigger for. A rage he simply had to ride out. But overall life is good enough and memories of the assaults continue to lessen their hold on his psyche.

This evening he sits down to dinner with Miller and Nelson, and he’s able to appreciate it all – the food, the setting, the people. Not to mention the fact that the population here is overall healthy enough that he gets a chance to relax and enjoy a meal without fearing that his communications device will go off declaring multiple emergencies. There are construction accidents and lingering effects of the miners’ disease experienced by the Eligius people, there are pregnancy- and baby-related visits. Jackson is just thrilled not to be treating people maimed in combat.

“Here we go,” Nelson says, setting the plates down. “Pasta with meat sauce for Miller and me, and the mushroom and bean sauce for Jackson.”

“It smells wonderful,” Jackson says. He decided a while ago not to eat any animal flesh. Although Jackson seems to be the only member of Wonkru who feels this way, animal flesh just reminds him too much of the Dark Year and he’s realized he’s happier without it in his diet. New Sanctum has plenty of other protein sources.

“Thanks, Nelson,” Miller says. “One of these days we should bribe Murphy to cook dinner for us so we can return the thanks.”

“I doubt he has the time,” Jackson smiles. “Vena keeps him and Emori pretty busy.”

Emori and Murphy’s daughter is named Vena. Back when the couple was discussing baby names, Raven half-jokingly told them to name the baby after her. Murphy joked back that they would take her name and slap an “a” on the end of it. And somehow the appellation Ravena just stuck; everyone now calls the toddler Vena.

The three men dig into the food. They discuss their day and the workings of New Sanctum. Given how close they are to four of New Sanctum’s five leaders, they always have a front-row seat to its workings. One of Nelson’s housemates enters the kitchen – Nelson still lives with three other COGs – and helps herself to some of the leftovers. The trio can later hear the roommate talking on her phone to a friend in the next room. (Phones that they can thank Raven and her team for).

Nelson then serves up dessert for them to enjoy on the porch with their drinks, warning that “it’s a cobbler so it’s gonna be messy”. Miller laughs and says that until he arrived in Sanctum, the only dessert he’d ever eaten had been at Mount Weather and he certainly doesn’t care how messy the cobbler is.

It’s a warm evening, and Jackson sheds his jacket as he settles into his seat on the porch. Miller at his side does the same. Insects begin to buzz and sing their evening songs.

“This is better than Blythe Anne’s desserts,” Jackson murmurs. “No offense, Blythe Anne,” he adds, looking upwards as if she could somehow hear him from the tavern. Nelson’s next-door neighbors are also sitting on their porch, one of them playing a tune on a guitar. Jackson starts to subconsciously tap his foot along with the music.

“Hey, so how’d it go the other day?” Miller asks Nelson. “Did you get together with Humphreys?”

Humphreys is the Eligius man who Niylah had warned was “kind of a jerk”, and whom Nelson had once shared a drink with.

Nelson groans and sets his drink down on the side table. “I’m so desperate it’s not even funny. I’m embarrassed that I went out of my way to talk to him again.” He runs a hand along his forehead as if to wipe away a bead of sweat.

“Was he any more likeable this time?”

“No,” Nelson answers with a blunt laugh. “But he said that if I ever want to hook up, he’s game.”

Jackson leans forward in his seat. He notices a glint in Miller’s eye too. They want Nelson to be happy, but Humphreys sure doesn’t seem like the right way to accomplish that.

“So…are you going to?” Jackson asks. He’s met Humphreys a few times as well. Twice he’s had to go to medical because of brawling with another Eligius person. Jackson has to admit that his opinion of him is not any more favorable than Niylah’s.

Nelson sighs again. “What do I do?” he asks, spreading his hands as if asking the universe. “There really are no other prospects. Unless another starship lands here someday.” He pauses and sounds serious now as he asks, “Is sex enjoyable when it’s with someone you don’t care about? Or don’t even like?”

“No,” Miller answers automatically. “At least not for me.” He shrugs. “Only ever had it with two different men and I loved both of them.” He looks at Jackson with a bit of what Jackson might call reverence.

Jackson places a hand on Miller’s knee. He also pauses for a moment to acknowledge that Miller has just referenced Bryan. He knows how Miller feels. It’s been years since they’ve broken up and years since Bryan died, but Miller loved him once, and it’s still a loss.

Jackson then answers Nelson’s question as well, though his answer comes a bit more from his head than his gut. “Plenty of people do it. Sleep with someone they don’t care about or don’t even like. It’s not for me though,” he says thoughtfully. He then adds, “But like you said. You don’t have a lot of choices.”

“Yeah,” Nelson responds. “Gabriel’s not going to wake up one morning and realize that he likes men,” he adds with a laugh. He has shared with Miller and Jackson that he might have carried a bit of a torch for Gabriel over the years.

“You could always **try** it with Humphreys,” Miller says evenly. “Doesn’t have to be more than a one-time thing if you don’t like it.”

“But then there’s my lack of experience…” Nelson says, letting his voice trail off.

“That’s where maybe you don’t want to do it with someone who’s a jerk then,” Miller acknowledges. “A good person won’t care about your lack of experience, won’t view the whole thing as a performance. But if he is a jerk then…well, yeah he might say some hurtful stuff.”

“Right,” Jackson adds. “Good sex is all about communication and trust and respect. If Humphreys is as bad as he seems, then I have to wonder if the sex is even going to be worth it.”

Nelson nods in acknowledgement. He takes a sip of his drink. Jackson looks at him and he feels for the man. Nelson truly does have no decent options unless – as they joke – another starship arrives or a man wakes up one day and says he wants to explore an attraction to other men. Jackson himself has been lonely before, has craved having a lover so he has a taste of what Nelson must be going through. He remembers, years ago, hitting on the grounder healer Nyko (to which Nyko politely told him that he’s not attracted to men). He even remembers interacting with Sinclair a few times and just wishing that Sinclair would hold him or hug him. Jackson knows he’s lucky to have had Miller at his side all these years. On the occasions when Miller works nights, Jackson doesn’t like sleeping in a cold, empty bed. He’s been known to get up from the bed and bring Miller a drink or text back and forth with him. Jackson knows intellectually that having a romantic partner isn’t everything, and yet it means so much to him. He feels for Nelson.

“Maybe I don’t do it then,” Nelson murmurs. “Maybe it’s not worth it.” He gently slaps a hand against his thigh. “So. You two haven’t mentioned any baby news. What’s the latest with you and Gaia? Will there be a playmate for Vena and Aurelia soon?”

“Still under discussion,” Miller says with a sigh. “All three of us seem to be leaning that way.”

“We just want to make sure we’re not rushing into anything,” Jackson adds. “Sometimes humans…make decisions for the wrong reasons. Murphy and Emori had their baby, Clarke and Bellamy had their baby…even Hope and Jordan are talking about it now. We just….just need to make sure we’re not subconsciously letting ourselves think about it because everyone else is doing it.”

“It’s natural to think about it though,” Nelson says, tilting his head. “New life. You’ve all survived so much. You finally live in a place that’s peaceful. Any why deprive yourself of something that means so much to people?”

“And let’s not forget the fact that the human race is still down to fewer than 600 people. If Jordan and Hope are eager to make a playmate for Vena and Aurelia, then good,” Miller says. “I think we should do our part too.”

“It’s going in that direction,” Jackson says. He takes another bite of his cobbler. It really is incredible. Tart and sweet berries, a crust that’s buttery and flakey. He fleetingly wonders what he would’ve traded in the bunker to get a few bites of something like this.

“Any more thoughts on which of you….?” Nelson lets his voice trail off.

“We’re leaning towards Jacks,” Miller says. “Gaia is so little, narrow hips. I’m big and bulky. Might be better if the sperm come from Jacks since he’s not as bulky as me. Gaia likes that idea.”

“We want a safe mom and a safe birth,” Jackson says.

**A Year and Ten Months Since Arriving on New Sanctum**

“Well, my mother has a boyfriend. I never thought I’d live to see that day.”

When Gaia makes the very-bemused proclamation to Miller and Jackson, it is met with a few good-natured laughs. Miller quickly looks around, knowing that Indra would kill them if she overheard any of this. They are in med bay and the door is closed – but one never knows.

“So it’s really official?” Jackson asks. “We haven’t been imagining things?”

“I finally just came out and asked her,” Gaia says, putting her hands up. She continues, “Her reply was ‘Yes, Kamar and I are seeing each other. We spend two or three days a week together. I have no intention of leaving the farmhouse and moving in with him.’ Her exact words, spoken very calmly and making it clear I was not to ask questions.”

The three chuckle a bit more. Kamar is one of the COGs and, as Nelson has told them, ‘Perfect for Indra, I think.’ And that is that.

Jackson smiles and returns to the machine and the report he was poring over a moment ago.

“Well?” Gaia asks, peering over his shoulder though med bay’s technology is a bit beyond her.

Jackson smiles. “No surprises. All three of us have great bloodwork results. We’re basically three very healthy adults.”

“It never hurts to have it confirmed. Especially if….” Gaia begins.

“Yeah,” Miller says, his voice serious. “If.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe that Monty and Harper’s son is going to be a dad. It still just kills me that they aren’t around for this.”

“Their sacrifice is what got us here,” Jackson says, placing a hand on Miller’s shoulder. “They made this good life here possible.”

“I wish I had known them,” Gaia murmurs.

Miller shakes his head. “Some days I swear it feels like just yesterday when I was trapped in Mount Weather along with them and Jasper. Or serving in the guard with them. Crazy to think that it was a century ago, and their kid is going to become a dad.”

“I have a feeling we’ll see a whole new side of Diyoza,” Jackson adds. “Grandma Diyoza.” He pauses. “I’m still hurting over the fact that Abby never got to meet Aurelia.”

As Jackson talks, Gaia paces around. She then comes to a stop. “We should do it. We should.” She takes a breath. “Life is so short. And my mother should get to meet her grandchild…unlike Abby and Monty and Harper who never got the chance to meet theirs,” she says passionately.

“But…are you sure?” Miller asks, his tone dead serious. “I know you were worried about all the challenges that might come up. The days when you might want to read to the kid and we might want to play catch with them. Or the days when the kid doesn’t feel like doing their homework and you’re okay with it and we’re not.”

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll manage it,” Gaia insists. “We’re close enough friends that we’ll find ways to compromise together.”

Miller and Jackson look at each other. “You know our views. We’re ready too.”

Gaia nods. “Then let’s make this happen.”

Later that night, Miller and Jackson are getting ready for bed. “I’m glad we have a decision on that,” Miller says. He sighs. “I feel like we’ve been spending the past year or so just going back and forth on things. ‘Should we have a baby?’ and…‘Should we ask Nelson?’”

“Yeah,” Jackson acknowledges as he turns down the blankets. “So, one of those items has been decided now.” He slides under the covers, and Miller joins him a second later. “How do you feel about the other?”

“Still going back and forth, I guess,” Miller says with a shrug. “I don’t have any worries about you and me. That will always come first. It’s more that I don’t want Nelson to feel like we’re offering it out of pity.”

“That’s a big one for me too,” Jackson says with a nod. “And if it doesn’t work out, I don’t want to ruin a friendship. Or make things feel awkward. But…it might be really enjoyable for all three of us,” he says, tilting his head.

“It might. It might also be awkward as hell,” Miller says, raising his eyebrows. “Neither of us has had sex with anyone else in so long.”

“And neither of us has ever had a threesome. I’m still not sure how it actually works. Won’t it be a messy tangle of bodies?” he asks with a slight laugh. “Does someone – **you** , please -- suggest to the other two what to do next?”

“Does it need a _choreographer_?” Miller asks, and this time both men laugh heartily. They are then quiet for a bit. “We could probably,” Miller begins seriously now, “work through all of these things by talking about it with him.”

The three men have hovered around the topic a few times during the past months. Jackson has the distinct impression that Nelson wants it, and that he wouldn’t view it as something that Jackson and Miller were offering out of pity. But they’ve never sat down and had a direct conversation about it. It has been all hints and looks and subtle gestures such as a hug lasting a beat longer than it should.

“Maybe we should,” Jackson says. “Talk about it. And also…if this works and Gaia does actually get pregnant, then our free time is about to become severely limited. If Emori and Murphy and Clarke and Bellamy’s lives are any indication.”

“Yeah,” Miller says, his mouth twisted to one side. “Better do it now while we still have any actual energy for sex.”

Jackson laughs. “You always crack me up.”

**Two Years Since Arriving on New Sanctum**

The dessert tonight is pears poached in red wine.

“This is…somehow magnificent,” Jackson murmurs as he takes another bite. It’s sweet and spicy and just a bit sensual, for lack of a better word.

“Just five ingredients,” Nelson says. “But it feels decadent.”

They are back at Nelson’s place, again having dessert on the front porch. Nelson has “kicked out” his three housemates for tonight though. Whether he had to use persuasion or bribes Miller doesn’t know, but the house is all theirs tonight. Which is especially good because the house only has two bedrooms; Nelson normally has to share his bedroom too.

“Where did you get this recipe from?” Miller asks.

“Why, are you going to start cooking?” Nelson teases.

“Oh, hell no,” Miller says. “We’ll keep on trading meals for babysitting with Murphy and Emori! Just wondering.”

“Gabriel,” Nelson answers. “He said it’s a good dessert for….setting the mood.”

Miller sees a faint blush on Nelson’s cheeks. His own might be a bit hot as well. Miller’s not exactly nervous – he’s lived through so many events that tonight wouldn’t even crack the top 100 of things to be nervous about. He’s more excited than nervous, though he knows he’s about to head into unknown waters.

“Please give him our thanks,” Jackson says.

Miller smiles at seeing Jackson so happy. At seeing him being able to sit on a porch and enjoy a dessert and start anticipating some good sex. The three men continue to just chat and the sun slowly sets. Their desserts are gradually finished off.

“So, should we….revisit any of our discussions before we head over to the bedroom?” Miller asks.

He glances at Jackson and detects what he could only call gratitude in Jackson’s expression. It has always been their habit that Jackson tends to let Miller know when he wants it, and then Miller tends to take more of the lead once they get down to it. Miller is pretty confident that Jackson is glad that he’s started the ball rolling now too.

“I think I’m all set,” Nelson says.

Jackson nods. “Me too.”

They have discussed what happens next, more than once during the past two months and they all understand several things. Miller and Jackson’s emotional bond comes first. The three are not intending to become a throuple but are approaching this more as a friends with benefits situation. (“Close friend with benefits,” they have clarified). They will see how it goes tonight, and if it doesn’t work out then they will do their best to just go back to the way things were.

They’ve also set some guidelines for what they might do if it turns out to be enjoyable for all parties and they all want to do it again. Because Miller and Jackson are keeping their bond central, neither will ever sleep with Nelson when the other isn’t there. There will be no pairings of just Nelson and Jackson or just Nelson and Miller. They have also discussed the fact that Jackson is a survivor of sexual assault, and that last time he was naked in a room with two other men, he was being assaulted. So he is free to put a stop to things at any point – as, in fact, any of them are if they start to feel uncomfortable or weird. And Nelson has reminded them more than once, with an embarrassed laugh, that the sum of his sexual experience to this point involved masturbating with another guy a decade ago. They all agree they are not going to fixate on anyone’s performance and that “this is not a dance”.

“Okay,” Miller then says, eyeing the door. “Shall we?”

Nelson has clearly put some thought into the appearance of the bedroom. There is a fragrant bouquet of flowers on the dresser, and Nelson now sets about lighting several candles. He also presses play on his device, and a gentle piece of music – mostly piano and flutes – begins to play. “Is this okay with you?” he asks.

Jackson and Miller look at each other and nod.

Not long afterwards, Miller feels that Nelson looks like a kid inside a candy store. (Not that Miller’s ever seen a candy store, but it’s an expression he’s always understood intuitively). Clothing is discarded, and Nelson looks appreciatively at the other two men.

“Hey,” Jackson says, running a hand along the sheets, “this fabric is incredible! Is this…what silk feels like? Or satin? How did you get it?”

“I have my methods,” Nelson says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Called in a few favors.”

Miller steps up to the bed and also runs a hand along the sheets. “Damn,” he says. “We need to figure out how to get this for our room.”

And then the three men all look at each other and laugh. “Are we more interested in the sheets or the sex?” Miller asks, smiling. “Now come on.” He pulls Nelson towards him for a kiss.

It all goes smoothly from there, with just a few awkward moments. At one point Jackson gently says to Nelson, “A bit less aggressive with the kisses.”

“Sorry,” Nelson breathes.

“It’s okay.”

Kisses continue. Bodies are touched and caressed with the same reverence Miller and Jackson used when touching the satin sheets. “Is it normal to feel like you could come any second?” Nelson gasps. Miller guesses that Nelson knows the answer is yes but is also trying to express his delight in the proceedings.

“Your first time, yeah definitely,” Miller says. He then remembers, as they’ve discussed before, that he is likely going to be the one to “suggest” what happens next. “Why don’t you lay on your back, Nelson so one of us can give you head?”

It comes out halfway between a question and a command, but no matter. Nelson eagerly does as Miller suggests.

Miller then exchanges a look with Jackson. “Let me,” Jackson says.

Miller kneels on the bed next to the other two men, content for now to watch. Jackson sets a good pace, Miller thinks, respecting that Nelson is likely not going to last too long but still taking some time and not just going right for his cock. He kisses Nelson’s lips again. He slowly works his way down, not rushing to reach his destination, but not drawing it out either. Once Jackson’s lips get to where he’s going, Nelson groans loudly and Miller thinks of a way that he can take part more directly. He bends down and kisses Nelson’s lips and neck and chest.

As Miller expected, Nelson doesn’t last too long, not with Jackson’s mouth working on him. After he comes, Nelson laughs and says, “Okay, I feel like I’ve done nothing. Let me try….” They go on from there. As all three men had joked about before, at various times it does feel like there are limbs getting tangled, and at times Miller does feel like a choreographer – but the others seem to appreciate that. Miller whispers to Nelson that he’s doing great at giving his first blowjob, and Nelson visibly relaxes more after that. Nelson later watches intently to see how Miller performs it on Jackson.

Afterwards, sprawled out on the bed together, the three men talk.

“So, what do you usually do afterwards?” Nelson asks.

“Fall asleep,” Miller says with his usual flair. “Don’t judge. I’m tired after I come!”

The men chuckle. Jackson stretches a bit and then says, “He’s right about the sleeping thing. We usually cuddle a bit and then fall asleep – unless we’re needed somewhere else.”

“I liked it a lot,” Nelson says, propping himself up on his elbow. His voice is thoughtful. “I’d like to do it again.”

“Me too,” Jackson says.

“I’m in,” Miller says.

“You were a great choreographer,” Jackson says, reaching a hand to stroke Miller’s chest, something he’s always liked to do.

“Yes,” Nelson murmurs. “I think we needed someone to do it. So do you think…next time we can try anal? Or…what is it best to call it? Do you just call it fucking?”

“’Fucking’,” Jackson says with a shrug. “’Anal’ sounds like a word I’d hear in med bay. And….I’m down for it if you both are.”

“Me too…just remember what I said. I hate bottoming,” Miller says straightforwardly.

“I’m happy to try anything,” Nelson says.

The three men remain in bed for a while, occasionally cuddling or talking. Miller’s on duty in eight hours and Jackson promised to babysit for Clarke and Bellamy in eight hours’ time as well, so the couple eventually returns to the farmhouse so they can get some sleep before their work begins.

**Two Years and Six Months Since Arriving on New Sanctum**

The farmhouse has simply gotten too crowded. However, New Sanctum does not have a shortage of construction materials or construction crews. A cottage next to the farmhouse was built for Murphy, Emori, Vena, and their upcoming arrival. A second cottage for Clarke, Bellamy, and Aurelia is nearly finished. It is also just steps from the farmhouse. Next on the list is a third cottage for Hope, Jordan, and their son Theodore (named for Diyoza’s grandfather with whom she was close as a child – both parents just liked the name too) but it will be several more months before it’s complete.

“Vena is playing ‘the running and yelling game’,” Jackson wryly observes. Aurelia is too, though with a bit less gusto than the older girl.

Jackson and Miller are babysitting this morning. Miller has just arrived back to the farmhouse after picking up breakfast from the tavern.

“I can hear that,” Miller says. “I heard the girls before I got anywhere near the porch. And….whoa!”

Looks like their breakfast will have to wait. Vena has decided to dash out of the farmhouse, and Aurelia is hot on her heels. Clouds have gathered and it’s clear that it’s going to rain any minute now, though the girls don’t seem to care about that much. Jackson chases after the duo as Miller goes to find raincoats.

A little while later, Jackson, Miller, and the girls are exploring the insect life that lives near the creek. They are all damp down to their socks, the cool breeze is not appreciated, and half of Vena’s breakfast is smeared on her coat, but the couple knows that this is good training for when they become parents.

Which won’t be any time soon though.

Gaia still isn’t pregnant despite their efforts. There’s no medical reason for it that they can find, but right now there is no sign that Gaia, Miller, and Jackson will soon join the other parents in their group. “These things take time,” Indra said one day when they all ate lunch together.

“Every human body is different,” Jackson had added. “We can’t expect instant results.”

They have tried to leave it at that as they keep trying.

Nelson comes by an hour later. He puts a pot of tea on, and makes hot cocoa for the kids. The girls are both soon down for naps. The three adults sip their warm beverages and chat a bit. Miller and Jackson are both tired – and both will have to go on duty at their jobs in a couple hours, as soon as the children’s parents return. So they do engage in a bit of what could be termed ‘gossip’.

“I think it’s official. Alex has a boyfriend,” Nelson says. A fresh round of rain begins to descend and patter gently against the windowpanes. Octavia enters the farmhouse from the outside, her boots squishing. She greets the men and heads to check on the sleeping toddlers.

“The young guy we saw him talking to in the tavern the other day?” Miller asks, putting his feet upon the ottoman. Despite the low population of New Sanctum, Miller has admitted that he doesn’t remember everyone’s name. Like Jackson, when he’s not working, he’s often babysitting. In New Sanctum they don’t live crammed together the way Wonkru used to inside the bunker.

“Yeah,” Nelson nods. “Robert. One of the Sanctum people. He’s younger than Alex. He survived Sheidheda by hiding.”

“I think Alex’s sister did the same thing,” Jackson supplies, looking down at his hands which are holding the warm mug. “I talked to Alex the other day when he came in for a check-up. Well, I mean I communicated with him,” he amends, since of course Alex isn’t able to speak anymore. “I think he’s doing okay.”

Indeed, Alex had said that he was “fine”. He’s taking medication for depression, which Jackson knows because he’s his doctor – Jackson of course doesn’t share this information with others. During that last check-up, Alex had written that he still wished the Eligius had never arrived here and that life would go back to how it was under the Primes. Jackson had just let the comment go even though it could have been taken as an insult. He figured that Alex certainly had good enough reason to wish that Wonkru and the Eligius had never made it here. He continued to urge Alex to open up.

“That’s good,” Miller comments.

“Yeah.” Jackson shakes his head. He again looks down at his mug. “Once we were rescued, I remember thinking that either Alex and I would bond because of what we lived through or we’d completely avoid each other because we didn’t want to be reminded of it.”

“And?” Nelson gently prompts.

“I guess what happened is somewhere in between. We don’t avoid each other,” Jackson says. “But we haven’t ever really…hit it off either. But I hope he and Robert are doing well.”

“Love is a wonderful thing,” Miller says, reaching to touch Jackson’s shoulder. Jackson doesn’t care if it’s a platitude. He’s always happy to hear romantic Miller.

“And so is sex,” Nelson says, with a smile. “Is tomorrow still good for you?”

“As long as there are no medical or security emergencies, we’re both still off tomorrow,” Miller says. “So let’s do it.”

Jackson nods. “Our place, right?”

“Yeah.”

Nelson has been finding it harder and harder to kick his roommates out, and none have any desire to move. So when the three men hook up, now it’s usually inside Jackson and Miller’s room at the farmhouse. The trio just has to hope that none of Jackson and Miller’s many roommates remark too much upon the situation. Gaia’s room is closest; she and Niylah swapped rooms so Gaia could be closer to the prospective dads. At various times over the months, Niylah and Murphy have made spicy comments to Miller and Jackson about the obvious situation with Nelson. Gaia is not the teasing type and she doesn’t remark upon it.

“I’ll put the satin sheets on the bed,” Jackson smiles.

“I’ll bring the lube,” Nelson says.

“We have plenty,” Miller says. “Thank God this isn’t the bunker where we spent half our waking hours trying to figure out how to get more aloe.”

**Three Years and Six Months Since Arriving on New Sanctum**

Jackson is frantically texting Clarke and Bellamy. _“We’ve had a change of plans with the baby’s name. Can we name him Griffin?? Not sure if you ever planned to use it if you have a second child someday - but we wanted to honor Abby.”_

The reply from Clarke comes quickly. _“Of course, we’d be honored. But we thought you’d decided to name the baby after Gaia’s father?”_

 _“That was the plan,_ ” Jackson texts back. _“But soon as baby arrived both Gaia and Indra are saying that he doesn’t look like a Darius, and they don’t think the name fits. So I’d love to name him after Abby.”_

_“Bellamy is smiling – you have our blessing!”_

Clarke is in a council meeting instead of med bay right now. With both Jackson and Niylah assisting with the birth, Clarke was told that she didn’t need to be there. The birthing room is already crowded, not just with the two doctors attending Gaia but also with Indra and Miller there as well.

The baby’s name has indeed changed a bit over the months. At first, all the parents agreed that they did not want to name the baby after someone who they lost: each has had so many losses that it didn’t seem right to pick one out. However, about four weeks before Gaia’s due date, Gaia sits Miller and Jackson down for a “serious discussion” and says she feels a compelling need to name the baby after her father. Miller and Jackson do not argue; with Gaia having undergone months of vomiting, fatigue, leg cramps, constipation, and bleeding gums, they figure that she has the right for her wishes in this area to take precedence. But now, the healthy baby boy is here but Gaia and Indra are shaking their heads, insisting that the name Darius simply doesn’t feel right. Jackson then asks Gaia and Miller if they would get behind the name Griffin, and they agree they like it.

Bellamy texts Jackson, _“Maybe someday we’ll have another, but yeah I’m with Clarke. We’re honored if you want to use the name.”_

So it is settled. Over the next few hours, a constant array of the parents’ friends and family either pop in or text, asking what they need. This is the fifth baby among their group – now joining Murphy and Emori’s two children, plus Clarke and Bellamy’s daughter, and Jordan and Hope’s son – so the group pretty much has the routine down. Give the parents and especially the mom whatever they need, do things for them without waiting to be asked.

Perhaps the best part is seeing Indra hold Griffin as she unabashedly coos at him.

Hours later, the parents are randomly dozing in roughly-coordinated shifts: Gaia in her hospital bed, Jackson on the sofa in the med center office, and Miller and Indra on nearby cots. Someone is always awake though, always holding Griffin and looking at the little guy with awe and wonder.

When Clarke and Bellamy stop by, Bellamy lightly slaps Miller on the back and says, “You know your life is about to change completely, right?”

A couple of days later, Jackson and Miller are discussing the very topic.

“Thank God there are three of us plus Indra. How has the rest of humanity survived parenthood??” Miller asks, somewhere between exhausted and delirious.

“Just sleep,” Jackson says softly. Gaia has just woken up and is feeding Griffin now. Her door is open as is theirs, so anyone can call for help if they need it.

“How do you look so energized?” Miller grumbles, looking at Jackson through half-lidded eyes.

“I think my adrenaline surges just keep lasting longer than yours. Don’t worry. I’ll crash soon.”

“Just make sure one of us is awake before you do,” Miller says, collapsing against the pillow, his shoes still on. Jackson slowly removes both of Miller’s shoes and places the blanket over him. He then plants a kiss on the back of his head.

**Six Years Since Arriving in New Sanctum**

“Hey guys! Your boyfriend is here!”

“I effing told you, Murphy. He’s our _close friend_ with benefits, not our boyfriend.”

Murphy and Miller have the exchange one morning, Murphy yelling for Miller from the farmhouse’s porch as he sees Nelson approach.

“Whatever works,” Murphy grumbles back. He turns to Nelson. “Looking good,” he says, placing his hand over his own chin in reference to the fact that Nelson recently shaved off his beard.

“Thank you,” Nelson says. Nelson doesn’t mind Murphy’s occasional sarcastic ribbing, and he’s going to take Murphy’s compliment on his clean-shaven look as sincere. Nelson has spent plenty of time with Murphy, Emori, and their kids and he sees what a wonderful dad Murphy is, which certainly buys Murphy tons of points in Nelson’s book. Nelson himself never knew his biological parents but in the COGs he had several good “uncles and aunts” helping him so he knows solid parenting when he sees it.

Nelson greets Jackson and Miller with hugs as well as with bagels from Blythe Anne’s tavern. The sun is already bright overhead and it’s going to be a day ranging somewhere between warm and hot, but for now the morning still has another hour or so of pleasant coolness. So the trio makes themselves comfortable on the porch, enjoying a bit of breakfast and tea or coffee before their days begin. Gaia is currently taking Griffin to pre-school, and both Jackson and Miller’s work shifts begin soon – but they have a bit of time now.

“How’s Griffin?” Nelson asks. He sits on a chair, facing Miller and Jackson who are sitting together on what is called a love seat.

The proud papas jump at any chance, Nelson knows, to share how Griffin is doing. Miller talks about the fact that he can go up and down stairs unassisted now, and Jackson talks about the three- and four-word sentences he’s using. “He’s very good about asking for what he needs,” Jackson adds.

“And he still loves when we read to him,” Miller adds.

Nelson then watches Jackson and Miller exchange a look. Jackson gives a slight nod.

“And we had another talk with Gaia yesterday,” Miller says, leaning forward. “She said she wants it. Indra is all-in too. So it’s official – we’re going to start trying again!”

“That’s great!” Nelson smiles. “A decision has been made.” He takes a sip of his coffee and adds, “Now, will a decision about a name be made sooner than last time?” Nelson asks partly because he’s become very interested in names lately. He knows that the COGs just randomly selected names for cast-offs like himself and that his name carries no meaning. He’s been contemplating changing it. He knows that a name-change would cause confusion, but it could be managed with reminders. He hasn’t told anyone of his idea yet.

“We did do a lot of back and forth,” Jackson admits. “But if the baby is a girl, we have a name picked out. Indra’s mother’s name was Issa. And mine was Mary. So if we have a girl, we plan to call her Marissa.”

“For a boy, we have no idea yet,” Miller says. “We did keep changing our minds until we got to the name Griffin.” He shrugs. “Maybe this time Gaia and Indra will look at the baby and decide that Darius – Gaia’s dad’s name – works for this one after all.” He pauses. “We shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves though.”

“Why not though?” Jackson says. “It’s fun to speculate.”

“Yeah. But we still have to actually get my sperm into Gaia and hope that another baby can happen.”

Jackson places a casual hand on Miller’s thigh as he talks. Nelson looks at the two men.

He loves them.

He wishes they could go from friends with benefits to being an official throuple, but he understands that they cannot. Miller and Jackson’s bond is too strong. They love each other in some kind of way that is as enduring and unmovable as one of the mountains in the distance. Nelson knows he’s lucky to be allowed into the inner circle here, to partake in the small moments of their daily lives whether it’s enjoying a drink at the tavern with them or doing mundane grunt work like changing Griffin’s diaper when their hands are full. (Fortunately Griffin is potty trained now). And the couple brings him into their lives too – when Jackson or Miller asks Nelson about his day, he knows they are not just asking and they really want to know what he thought of the concert in the park yesterday or what he thinks of last week’s council meeting.

“Will the farmhouse get too crowded again though?” Nelson asks, looking in the direction of the door.

Right on cue, Octavia bounds out of the house, talking on her phone to Diyoza and bidding a quick greeting in the men’s direction. And then a moment later Raven and Emori follow, Emori carrying the baby, the two women talking about some problem in engineering. “Murphy, take her!” Emori calls. “We gotta get to engineering!” The door slams shut behind them. “I need to fix that damn latch again,” Miller mumbles.

Jackson answers Nelson’s question. “Now that Hope, Jordan, and Theo’s cottage is done, we have a bit more space,” he says, looking in the direction of the cottages. With all three of the cottages just steps away, none of the parents feel separated from the rest of their tribe. “The new baby – if we’re lucky enough to have one – can just share a room with Griffin. Or we can put in to get our own cottage made. I don’t know.”

“I think Indra likes having her grandkid under the same roof,” Miller says. “Three generations in the same house. It works for us.”

“Yeah. Indra’s a great grandma,” Jackson adds. Nelson recalls that Jackson has shared how close they are to Indra now, how he will always miss Abby like crazy but that Indra is filling that spot inside his heart. (“They are actually not that different,” Jackson said one day).

Jackson then smiles at Nelson. “But don’t worry – we’ll still make time to have our dates. In fact, we should plan the next one, right?”

They discuss dates and settle on one. Nelson knows that Jackson and Miller have play dates for Griffin that they coordinate with the other parents, parenting meetings with Gaia, “date nights” when it’s just the two of them, not to mention all the time commitments related to their jobs too. They are busy, and Nelson is glad that they make time for him too.

Nelson still does not have a boyfriend or partner, and he truly has no prospects in that area. As they’ve joked about before, no other starship has descended upon New Sanctum, and Gabriel still hasn’t woken up one day deciding that he wants a boyfriend. The rest of the situation is still the same too: all the other men who are into men are either too old, too young, already paired up, not seeking a partner, or guys like Humphreys who Nelson has no interest in or no chemistry with.

But the arrangement with Miller and Jackson is still working out well. And as all three have said many times over the years, they are close friends with benefits. (“I’m…not quite a boyfriend but more than a friend?” Nelson asked once. Miller nodded, looking serious, and said, “That feels about right to me, if it feels right to you.”)

And Nelson is happy, despite not having a traditional relationship. His days living in the COGs camp now are a distant a memory, and he likes New Sanctum. It appears poised to continue years of peace, prosperity, and human rights. True, they are not doing great at democracy yet – as Nelson and Gabriel have discussed many times. The council is still comprised of the same five members: Gabriel, Clarke, Bellamy, Octavia, and Diyoza. They held elections last year and each was easily re-elected. Most citizens don’t attend council meetings and seem content to just shrug and say ‘The council’s doing fine.’ There are a handful of vocal complainers (most are COGs with a couple of Eligius and Wonkru sprinkled in), but fortunately the candidate they supported was trounced in the election. She was a frothing-at-the-mouth type who makes little logical sense when she talks – but the group knows they will need to keep an eye on the situation to ensure that nonsensical ideologies don’t take root.

Almost everyone else says they are content with their lives and their work here.

Jackson often remarks on the population numbers, and he says he’s happy that it’s growing slowly but steadily. New Sanctum has passed the 600 mark. That should be more than enough to maintain a healthy, non-inbred population, barring any disasters such as plagues, famine, or war. If this era of peace and prosperity continues, humanity is probably in good shape. Nelson knows that he is too.

**THE END**

**As always, thank you so much for your comments and feedback!**


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